


Ambassador

by Omoni



Series: Abovetale [29]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2019-04-19 19:39:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 22,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14244339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Omoni/pseuds/Omoni
Summary: True wisdom is knowing when to let others learn what you did.Frisk learns this the hard way. And so does Nickname.





	1. Chapter 1

Not long after she celebrated her fifty-fifth birthday, Frisk went to bed – and didn't wake up in the morning.

Asriel had woken up to the alarm, growling at it and rubbing his eyes. He slammed his fist into it and silenced it, then reached out to grab hold of his wife, so that he could keep her close as she woke up, too.

By then, it was getting harder and harder to wake Frisk up in the mornings, though they had yet to know why. They just didn't have the time, with everything so busy as the norm, and Frisk always seemed fine once awake, so they just pegged it to ageing and left it at that.

But when Asriel pulled her into his arms that morning, he felt a shock: she was so heavy and limp, and when he shook her a little, she didn't react. He went deaf for a moment in terror, rolling her over onto her back, and found she looked fine – just very pale and exhausted, her eyes underscored with dark, deep shadows. He pressed his ear to her chest, holding his breath, and heard her breathing and her heart beating - faint, but consistent, and in no danger of stopping.

He closed his eyes and paused, holding her for a moment in relief, before that fear came back.

She still hadn't moved. Even after all of that.

“Frisk?” he called, his voice wavering. He sat up again and touched her cheek, tapping it a little. “Frisk!”

She didn't even stir.

Asriel grabbed his phone by instinct, his fingers opening up a text message to his mother – before he stopped, his eyes shutting.

Even now, he still sometimes forgot she was gone, and when that happened, it _hurt_.

Instead, he texted Alphys. She was usually his first choice, now, and this was the first slip-up in a while. It was easy to trust Alphys, especially since they were not just friends, but family, now, too – perhaps they had been for a long time, really. He trusted Alphys with the lives of his family, because she trusted him with the same.

 _“Alphys, sorry, but I need your help, are you awake?”_ he texted.

However, not long after he texted her to see if she was awake yet, she called, instead. “Uh,” he answered, his eyes on Frisk and his brain short-circuiting a little.

“Asriel, what's wrong?” Alphys asked him, surprising him further.

“It's Frisk,” he blurted out, his surprise shattering when his worry crashed back into him.

“Is she okay?” Alphys asked, her voice gentle.

“No,” he whispered, his hand on Frisk's cheek, now, trying to rub the colour back into it. “No, Alphys. She... she's not waking up. She's breathing, but not awake... This… this has been--,”

“I'll-I'll be there as s-soon as I can,” Alphys cut him off, before she hung up.

Asriel dropped his phone and curled up beside Frisk, shaking, now. Not even that phone call had made her stir. He called for her, several times, but each time, there was nothing. He held her hand to his cheek, starting to feel less worried – and more terrified.

* * *

 “Asriel!”

He blinked. He had no idea how much time had passed, but it must've been at least fifteen minutes. “Bedroom,” he called, his voice cracking.

Alphys rushed in, a bag slung over her shoulder and her face focused and carefully calm. She knelt down beside Frisk's bedside, before Asriel moved over so that she could sit beside him. She did, nodding to him, before she starting examining his wife.

He watched from afar, his eyes already full, his hands still holding hers, so hard that the metal of her wedding ring dug into his skin. Alphys was silent, checking Frisk's blood pressure, heartbeat, and reflexes.

Then, she pulled back, closed her eyes briefly, and said, “Get her dressed, get dressed, yourself. We need to go to a hospital.”

Asriel stared at her, trembling, genuinely confused with terror.

“ _Now_ , Asriel!” Alphys snapped, taking hold of his shoulder and shaking him. “I can't carry her! Hurry, the longer we wait--,”

Asriel got to his feet before she finished, and with her help, they got Frisk dressed into warmer pyjamas, and Asriel dressed half-assed but warm enough, at least, before he picked Frisk up into his arms, following Alphys out of the bedroom and down the hall.

His eyes flared, and he was suddenly back in time, Underground, holding Frisk just like this, following Alphys down dark, cold hallways, terrified of losing her, trusting Alphys to save her...

“Where's her wallet?” Alphys asked, breaking him out of it. He pointed to the kitchen table, and she found Frisk’s bag, there, and grabbed it, before leading him out.

Outside, to his surprise, was a car – with his daughter behind the wheel, her eyes bright with fear, a mirror of his own. He recognised the car as Olceal's, barely remembering that Nicky had her license, now, before he felt himself tugged into the back seat by Alphys. He sat down, keeping Frisk close as he buckled up, and his eyes met Nicky's.

She nodded, biting her lip. He closed his eyes, but refused to ask. He didn't want to know. He needed to remain in ignorance, because the truth, he knew, had the potential to kill him.

Once Alphys was in the car, Nicky pulled out of the driveway, and the were on their way, the entire trip spent in frightened silence.

* * *

Alphys knew, and knew her daughter-in-law did, too. They exchanged glances as they waited, both for news about Frisk as well as the rest of their family to arrive, and they both looked grim.

Asriel paced, oblivious to the silent conversation taking place. His mind was white with fear, his eyes spilling over without control or awareness, and he barely even remembered where he was.

All he could see was Frisk, looking so small and cold in that damned stretcher, being wheeled away from him, still unresponsive and unconscious...

He wished his parents were here, so badly. He was so scared.

He couldn't lose her. Not now. Not like this.

Not before him.

_Please, not before me..._

Behind him, Undyne crashed into Alphys, shortly followed by Dandelion. Both looked pale and worried, but when hugs were exchanged, everyone felt better.

Except Asriel.

Even when Basket and Olceal got there, still, he felt nothing. He didn't greet them. He didn't even look at them.

He paced, and cried.

It was only when his eyes suddenly fell on sans's that he stopped. sans did as well, and for a moment, they stared at each other; sans's eyes were dimming, and if he stayed still for too long, he would sway, and Papyrus had to hold him up by his shoulders.

Seeing that, Asriel felt pure panic sweep through him.

His eyes flared, and he turned away, running in the opposite direction, toward the way he'd seen Frisk disappear...

A nurse stopped him, followed shortly by Nicky taking his hand into hers. “Lord Asriel, you can't,” the nurse said regretfully.

Asriel winced, trying to look past the nurse and down the hall, trying to catch a glimpse of anything that would tell him where she was...

“Frisk,” he murmured, his voice soft, before he felt that panic, again, set off by the sound of his own voice. "Frisk! _Frisk!!”_

He lunged forward, about to break loose and go down the hall—

\--only to freeze in mid-step, his soul held in place and keeping him immobile.

“Sans!” Asriel heard Undyne snarl. “What the _fuck_ are you doing?!”

Asriel was grateful to her; it was exactly what he'd wanted to scream.

“Saving his ass,” was the brusk answer.

Nicky winced, turning to her mother-in-law and nodding sadly. Undyne closed her mouth, looking confused, now, and Alphys took her hand and sat her back down.

Asriel tried to break free from Sans, his whole being desperate to find his wife. He needed her. He needed her, now, and knew she needed him, too...

“Papi,” Nicky then whispered. “I know what's wrong with Mami.”

His eyes went to hers, and she nodded. Her eyes then flicked to Sans, who let Asriel go. Nicky caught him before he fell, and after a reassuring word with the nurse, she led her father to the chairs and sat him down, then sat down beside him and took his hand.

“Papi,” Nicky murmured. He looked up at her, and their eyes met – eyes they’d inherited from Toriel, that would always be a part of her within them. “It... it was a kind of stroke.”

Asriel stared at her, his mind hearing only the word ‘stroke'. He started shaking, then, and shook his head.

But his daughter nodded. “I saw it, Papi. It was... I didn't get it, not at first.” Her eyes went unfocused, and she continued. “I saw Mami sleeping with a weight on both her neck and chest. There were words on them both: ‘work' and ‘grief'.”

“It's not uncommon,” Alphys broke in gently, startling him. “It's not. But with Frisk's history... It's worrisome.”

“My Frisk? Is... is she...?” he whispered, his hands at his chest, his fingers tangling into his shirt. His heart raced painfully, terrified, now.

“We don't know yet,” Alphys said, touching his arm. “We only know what we do because of Nickname. They only confirmed it when I yelled at them and told them what it was before they could.”

“But it shouldn't be much longer, now,” Nicky added, trying to look optimistic.

“she needs to _retire_ , weed.”

Asriel turned around, surprised by the change in sans's voice. But though they were dim, his eyes still shone. “it's killing her, _literally_ killing her. she can't do it, anymore. she's too sick, and has been for a while, and _you know it, goddammit!”_

Asriel flinched, unprepared for that flash of anger. The truth was, though he wanted to deny it, it was true: he did know it. He saw it in her eyes every single day.

But who else could even be the Ambassador but her?

It had always been her. _Always_. From the start, at ten years old, she was it. And for over forty years, now, she'd ruled at it.

_She'd conquered that hill..._

Only these past few years, she hadn't been ruling at all. She looked tired, the passion in her eyes dim, and she barely seemed invested at times during which she needed to be.

Ever since Undyne had been shot, that look haunted her eyes.

Hell, if he looked back, he remembered seeing it the moment their mother's soul shattered within Frisk's hands.

“Fuck,” Asriel sobbed out, covering his face and bursting into tears, hunching over in his seat.

He felt his daughter hug onto him, and Alphys take his hand, but he couldn't stop.

Then, from a surprising source, he heard the solution, in a voice so annoyed and flat that it shocked even sans.

“Sorry, but, this makes no sense, and it's _not_ because I'm stupid, okay? Because I'm _not_. Why doesn't Nicky do it?”

All eyes were on Dandelion, who stood in front of Asriel with her arms crossed over her chest. Her expression was so much like Undyne's that it surprised even Undyne, and her tail twitched angrily behind her, her eyes narrowed.

She was barely eleven. But in that minute decade, she'd seen more than most people had even seen in lives eight times as long. Within those eyes was wisdom, an old soul, and that soul was exasperated.

“ _You're_ the stupid ones,” Dandelion concluded to her mute audience. “Auntie Frisk should've retired last year, after Mommy was awake. It's too much. You're too old. Kinda.”

She blushed a little but didn't stop talking. “You wanna do it all yourself, and Auntie Frisk is the worst with that, always. But she's too stupid to decide right now, obviously. So it's gotta be us.”

Her eyes went to her uncle sans, who was smiling faintly at her, stunned – but oddly thrilled about it. “You're right, Uncle sans. Auntie Frisk needs to quit. And Nicky's gotta take her place.”

There was a small silence once she finished – broken only when she found herself grabbed into her sister's arms and yanked off of her feet into a hug so tight she squealed, both annoyed and kind of tickled by it.

“Go away, Bassy,” she concluded, but she giggled, and Basket merely kissed her cheeks and held her tight in her arms, her eyes closed but her cheeks wet.

Nickname sat there, her eyes on Dandelion, and when Asriel looked closely at her, he saw absolutely no surprise there. Instead, he saw someone who had finally been told news she'd been waiting to hear, had known for a while – and now had no idea how to truly take it.

Olceal, beside her, touched her cheek gently, and her eyes went to his, wavering a little. “You knew, Nicks,” he murmured, and she nodded slowly.

“It... was the rest of the vision, Olly,” she whispered, leaning into his hand. “When I went to pull the weights off of Mami... They disappeared, and on my head I wore a crown with the same words on it.”

“Nickname,” Basket breathed out, her eyes wide. “Sweetie...”

Dandelion looked up at her, then slid out of her arms, going to Nicky, instead. She grabbed one of her hands and held it.

“C'mon, Nicky,” she urged. “You _know_ , already. It's gotta be _now_.”

“When did you get so old, Dandy?” Nicky replied, touching her curly hair and brushing it from her face, smiling a little sadly.

“When Mummy got kidnapped,” she answered, surprising all of them, again.

“There's _no way_ you remember that!” Undyne broke in, moving to sit on Nicky's other side so that she could talk to them both, better. “You weren't even one, baby!”

Dandelion lowered her head, nodding. “I-I know, but... I… get nightmares? I hear... I hear things.... See things... and I know it's from then.”

“Like what?” Basket asked, kneeling down beside her.

Dandelion's eyes wavered, then met her sister's right on. “Like you do,” she answered. “G-gunfire... Crying...”

She shivered, her eyes filling. “Mummy...?”

Alphys was there immediately, kneeling down on Dandelion's other side and embracing her hard, her own eyes full. Dandelion clung to her, bursting into tears.

“Mummy...” she repeated, her claws digging into Alphys's back. “Mummy, I _hate_ this...”

Undyne covered her eyes and hunched forward, her other hand going to Alphys's back, too.

Alphys opened her eyes, looking ahead but focusing on nothing. It was strange, and it was true: both Dandelion and Basket had witnessed her shot and left for dead, and within their first year. She hadn't even thought about that, not in a long time.

“Mum,” Basket murmured softly. “What _do_ we do?”

That was strange, too. Ever since she'd become Headmistress, that kind of thing started happening more and more. She wasn't even the oldest – she figured at least sans was older than her – but everyone seemed to collectively agree that she was the one to go to by default, now.

And she didn't disagree with it, or resent it. She welcomed it, accepted it, and made sure to prove she was trustworthy. Undyne told her myriad times that she did, even despite her suicide attempt, but it was only now that she truly saw it as it was, and she felt it imprint upon her soul.

She stood up, still holding her youngest daughter, and nodded. Her eyes went to her daughter-in-law, who looked back sombrely.

“Nickname, it's true,” Alphys said, her voice soft, as soft as the hand she used to stroke Dandelion's hair as she sobbed into her shoulder. “I-I know you've been a diplomat for years, but I also know th-that, when we-we lost... Asgore and Toriel...”

Her voice caught, but she went on. “You stayed at Frisk's side, with Asriel, and-and helped her. And you have for a--for a few years, now.”

Nicky nodded. “She's taught me so much, way more than I've ever learnt in years of being a diplomat.”

And suddenly, her eyes glinted and sparked, and she sat up taller.

Asriel felt his heart speed up, because he recognised that look: it was the very same look that Frisk had, whenever she was determined.

To see it in his daughter made him so proud... and so sad...

“I can do it,” Nickname concluded. “I can take her place.”

It was then that the doctor showed up, which was good – as everyone had been about to speak all at once. Instead, Asriel scrambled to his feet and went to the doctor – not Athena, yet, as she was on vacation with her family, but she had been alerted.

“She's asking for you,” the doctor told him right away, and his eyes filled. He nodded, and the doctor added, “Only her husband and daughter, right now – and Dr Alphys, if you would like to.”

She did, gently setting Dandelion in Basket's lap, where she immediately curled up and clung tight, unable to stop crying. She took Nicky's hand and helped her to her feet, then went to Asriel's side – and took his.

He looked down at her, surprised, and she nodded, looking back with deep understanding, and warm hope. It was so strange to think that he would be as close to Alphys as he was, now, but it was true. She'd ruined his death – but also gave him the best life he'd ever hoped for. And he loved her for that.

Together, they followed the doctor down the hall – and to Frisk, the one who brought them all together in the first place.


	2. Chapter 2

“I’m sorry,” Frisk whispered, the first thing she said to them.

Asriel sat down on her bed, leaned down, and hugged her as hard as he dared, trembling with fresh tears. “Shut up, idiot,” he whispered back, stroking her hair, and she sniffled, her fingers digging into his back.

As they embraced, the doctor explained what happened. Nickname had been right: it had been a kind of stroke, or more accurately, the beginnings of one, a warning that a stroke was inevitable if nothing changed.

While weak, Frisk was now much better. Her eyes were focused, and the colour had returned to her cheeks. They did have her on medication, as she'd been dehydrated, as well as achy and dizzy. But once she'd stabilised, she was on the mend, and had even complained, demanding to know why her husband wasn't there – and demanding his presence at once.

She was incredibly lucky; she'd be going home in only two days, as long as she made sure to talk to her own doctor and start working on changing her lifestyle.

But she protested. “I'm fine. I was just tired. It was just--,”

“A _fucking stroke,”_ Alphys snapped, surprising her into silence. “Frisk, come on.”

Frisk paled, hiding her face back into Asriel's chest for a moment. He felt her trembling, and when he looked down, he saw that she was crying.

“Can you give us a moment? Perhaps update the rest of our family?” Nicky asked the doctor when she saw that. He nodded and left, and Nicky sat down on Frisk's other side, placing her hand upon her shaking back.

“I'm fine,” Frisk repeated, her voice choked. “I'm fine. I’m…” Her voice cracked. “Please... please...? I’m fine!”

“Mami,” Nicky broke in.

“I’m fine, Nickname.”

_“Mami.”_

Frisk looked up, startled by how sharp Nicky's voice was. Her daughter smiled at her, and she blinked in confusion and denial.

“Frisk,” Alphys said, pulling over a chair and sitting down. She'd been looking over Frisk's chart, then her IV medications, before she heard Nicky speak. “This is very, _very serious.”_

“Everything is,” Frisk suddenly snapped, pulling away from Asriel and lying back, covering her face with her hands, as if to do so would make it all go away. “Everything is serious. And I've always bounced back. I always will.”

“No,” Asriel answered, touching her knee. She lowered her hands at his tone, hearing barely-restrained terror within it, and he knew he had her full attention. “Frisk, it's all added up, now. It's all in one pile. And it's a pile that's smothering you to death.”

“Stop it, you're being dramatic,” Frisk answered angrily, her hands dropping to her lap, her face reddening.

“No, Mami, you're not being serious enough,” Nicky snapped, surprising both of her parents.

“Nickname,” Frisk warned, her eyes narrowing.

“No!” Nicky answered, her eyes flashing – and filling with tears. Frisk blinked, just as Nicky grabbed one of her hands between hers and held it tight.

She lowered her head, so that her hair hid her face, and she whispered, “No, Mami.”

“Frisk,” Alphys then said, getting her attention abruptly; she'd been staring at Nicky in shock, speechless. “I'm sorry. But no one here is being dramatic. It-it's the truth. You...”

When she saw Alphys's face fall, her eyes filling with tears, Frisk felt a stab to her heart, and shock slip through her blood. Because it was seeing Alphys's tears, and not her daughter's or husband's, that woke her up.

Alphys didn't cry as easily as them, unless it was about Undyne or her children.

This wasn't about them. And that's what made it real for Frisk.

“Y-you could die...” Alphys then whispered. “And-and soon, too... This isn't... isn't normal, Frisk...”

Frisk grabbed her hand with her other one, holding it tight. Alphys looked up at her, and Frisk felt her own eyes fill up with tears, now, too.

“What do I do?” she whispered.

Both Asriel and Nickname looked up at her, their eyes wide, and she looked at them, nodding. She bit her lip, and Asriel leaned forward and brushed the tears from her cheek, making her close her eyes and sniffle.

“Mami,” Nicky said softly, squeezing her hand. “It's time to quit.”

“Quit?” Frisk echoed.

“Like Undyne,” Alphys agreed. “Undyne quit, too. Remember?”

“Yeah...” Frisk agreed.

With that retirement, Undyne had actually improved once she'd recovered from her coma – and quit. She was _thriving,_ so much happier, now, than she'd been when still Captain and active in politics.

Now, as Dandelion's primary caregiver, she was truly at her happiest.

No one had expected that happiness, least of all Undyne, herself.

Frisk looked a little hopeful when she thought about that. She let go of Alphys hand to take hold of Asriel's, and her eyes met his.

“Asriel, it would mean you would be alone,” she murmured. “I don't like that...”

“No, Mami,” Nicky broke in, softly. “I... I want to take your place. As Ambassador.”

Frisk stared at her in shock – before her mouth closed tight, and her eyes filled with tears, again. She bit the bottom of her lip hard, feeling herself tremble.

_Of course. Of course it makes sense. Of course Nicky would take my place._

_She was born for it. She always was destined for it._

_Always._

_“Ah, onnaku yang mannis...”_ Frisk murmured tearfully, taking hold of Nicky’s face and pulling her close enough to press her forehead to her softer, fuzzier one. _“Saya sangat bangga padamu...”_

Nicky sobbed, closing her eyes and hugging her mother tight at that, and Frisk clung back, bursting into tears of her own.

 _“Aku anan membuatmu sangat bangga... Dengan semua yang saya miliki...!”_ Nicky cried, her voice breaking.

Asriel and Alphys exchanged glances; they had no idea what they were saying to each other, but it was clearly something they both agreed on, and with a great deal of love, too. It wasn't unusual; Asriel was used to the two of them lapsing into Frisk's childhood language, as Frisk had spoken it in front of Nicky since she was a baby.

But he wished right now that he'd paid more attention, so that he'd know what was being said. (Both Nicky and Frisk told him later, separately, and both times, he cried, too.)

Then, Frisk sobbed out, “Yes. I’m so sorry... I will, I promise, I... I don't want to die... _I don't want to die!”_

She broke down, then, and both Nicky and Asriel moved to embrace her. When that happened, Alphys smiled, touched Asriel's shoulder, and gave them privacy.

It was needed; they cried together for quite some time.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've upped the chapters count to 5, just in case, since there's definitely 4.

When they were alone (Alphys sent Asriel for coffee for all of them, and he was desperate for a distraction and left), and Alphys left to talk to everyone else, as well as see if they could visit, yet, Frisk and Nickname talked.

They spoke solely in Indonesian, both wanting the comfort of that childhood language they both shared, as well as privacy from staff (most of the staff were either monsters or non-Indonesian humans). 

“Mami,” Nicky whispered, her head resting on her mother's shoulder like she was still a child, and Frisk simply held her the same way. “Mami, I know this sounds stupid, but I'm so proud of you.”

Frisk smiled, kissing her forehead gently. “Of what?” she wondered. _She_ didn't feel proud of herself, at all. She felt old and weak. She was only proud of Nickname. 

“Because quitting isn't easy, Mami. Nor is giving your job – your life's work – to someone else.”

“Ah, _putri,_ I’m truly proud of you,” Frisk replied, stroking her hair and ears gently. Nicky sighed and closed her eyes, comforted. “This won't be easy.”

“Nothing ever is, Mami,” Nicky said softly. “And I’ve never backed down. I never will. For you, Mami, and for all of us.”

“Nickname, my wonderful, beautiful gift,” Frisk answered tearfully, kissing her forehead. “You are the best thing I’ve ever done – and even then, I know I can never take credit for your greatness.”

Nicky's eyes filled, and she burst into tears, unable to speak. Frisk held her and cried right beside her.

For a long while, this was all either woman could do, so they did. Frisk cried in order to release her pain, her sadness and shame; Nickname cried for her mother's sadness as well as her own, but also with some fear for her future. 

_”Putri,”_ Frisk managed to get out, her voice choked and thick. “I'm scared for you...” She still spoke Indonesian, and Nicky's eyes opened, looking up at meeting her mother's. Frisk looked back, seeing the eyes of both her own mother and her husband, and she brushed the tears from them, biting her lip.

“I know,” Nicky whispered. “But I'm willing to do it, anyway.”

“But you'll be in so much more danger!” Frisk suddenly cried. “You're a hybrid, Nicky! They'll try to kill you!”

Nickname smiled, shocking Frisk. “Mami, you forget: I’m married to Olly and Bassy.”

“So?”

“Bassy knows defence magic, and Olly knows attack magic.” Her eyes closed for a moment, thinking about her spouses and feeling so happy. “And like you, I will make sure they are always flanking me, like Papi did for you.”

Frisk grabbed her and held her tight, bursting into harsh, gut-wrenching sobs that shook them both. Nicky hugged back, murmuring words of comfort to her in both Indonesian and English, and each time, Frisk nodded, but didn't let go. 

The door opened, and Asriel walked in, holding the tray of coffee for all three of them (the rest, he'd already given out to the others). When he saw them crying, he set it down and sat down on Frisk's cot, wrapping his arms around the two women he loved more than anything else in the world. 

They grabbed him and pulled him close, switching immediately to English, and they told him – through tears – what they'd talked about, including Frisk's fear for Nicky's life. 

Asriel shuddered, unhappy that he'd never thought of that, and now he was scared. “Nicky, I'll be there, too, I'll--,”

But Nicky covered his mouth, surprising him. “No, Papi. You are King of the Underground and Groundskeeper for Alphys's school. You can't. I need you where you are, Papi.”

Asriel searched her face, desperate to argue with her, but when he looked at Frisk, he saw agreement, there, and he nodded, with deep hesitation. 

“You trust my wife and husband, don't you, Papi?”

Asriel looked back at her, startled; he still wasn't quite used to the concept of his Nickname married at all, let alone to two people. 

But then he thought about those two people, and he smiled, surprising all three of them. Basket, he knew the best, and he adored her and always had, especially when he'd been a stay-at-home-dad and had spent time with her and Alphys.

He trusted her very much, and had always secretly hoped Nicky would fall in love with her. But when she hadn't, he loved that they were friends, and that trust never fled. 

Olceal was different; he was new, and had not only begun his relationship with his daughter with an insult, but with violence to Basket. He'd resented and mistrusted him for years, something he never managed to shake until he'd heard that he was going to travel with Basket. 

When he learnt that, he started to reconsider his stance, especially with Frisk's – and Nicky's – help. So he gave Olceal another chance, and he'd not only honoured it, but went beyond it. 

And when he welcomed Nickname into his arms while hers were around Basket's, Asriel's trust became real. 

He trusted them both with the life of his only child. Immensely.

So he nodded, and Nickname lit up, her eyes wavering. “Thank you, Papi,” she whispered.

There were knocks, before the door opened – and the rest of their family tumbled in eagerly. It made the Dreemurrs laugh happily and welcome them.

* * *

For a wonderfully long period of time, Frisk was so blissfully distracted and happy that she was able to ignore why she was there. They were all so kind and loving to her, so hopeful and helpful, that she felt so much better, already. 

And truly, for the two days she was there, when she wasn't alone, the time flew by. 

But alone, in the night, she stayed awake for most of it, her eyes staring up at the ceiling while she absently listened to her roommate's TV blaring loudly (and rudely) beside her. 

The first night, she cried for most of it, not even bothering to hide it. She needed to sob, desperately, because she'd hidden it all day for the sake of her family, and could hold it in no longer.

Being Ambassador had been her entire life, really. She barely remembered her life prior to the fall, willingly allowing it to be buried beneath the happiness that came with her new life. 

She had no idea what else to be. At all. 

She agreed that she had to quit. She knew she did, now, especially when she saw how happy Asriel had been when she'd agreed to it. 

She loved his happiness, and had spent over half of her life trying to maintain it. This was no different.

It was partially at the expense of her own, yes, but in comparison, she knew she preferred his. 

And it was true: she wasn't ready to die, yet.

But what could she possibly do, instead?

Teach? It was an option, and she knew Alphys would welcome her. Yet when she pictured herself being a teacher, again, she felt exhausted, already. 

It wasn't an option. She was too damned tired. 

She had no idea what to do, and it made her sob harder. The nurse taking care of her tried to calm her, but she was inconsolable, and after being seen by the doctor on duty, they decided – with her agreement – to give her a sedative to help her sleep. 

It worked, and she fell into dreamless sleep, waking only when she was injected with a blood-thinner in the morning.

* * *

The second day felt very long, and it was probably because Frisk was awake for most of it. She had to undergo several more tests, wait for those results, wait for the doctor to see those results, and then talk to Frisk. 

But luckily, by the time she'd come back from the last day's test, she was surprised to find Athena, there, waiting for her with a grin. They hugged the second Frisk was on her feet, and Athena's hug was especially tight. 

It surprised Frisk. “Athena?” she murmured, trying to pull away but getting pulled back. Over her shoulder, Frisk glanced at Asriel, who smiled faintly but shrugged. 

When she let go, Athena was crying. “I'm sorry, Frisk,” she admitted, helping Frisk back to her bed and hooking her IV back up. “I was scared, and I tried to get here as soon as I could.”

“Thank you,” Frisk replied, smiling up at her, both for her help as well as her care. “What did you find?”

Dr Thicke smirked. “You know better,” she replied, leaning against Frisk's dinner tray table. “It takes a few hours.”

“Worth a shot,” Frisk said cheerfully, shifting over so that Asriel could slip in beside her and cuddle her. She was so grateful for that, more grateful than she wanted to admit. 

“But you already know,” Athena added, narrowing her grey eyes. “You're quitting?”

Frisk nodded, looking away with some shame. Despite knowing it was the right thing to do, she still felt some shame and regret. 

“Thank god.”

Frisk looked back over in surprise, and saw Athena covering her eyes, her head lowered. Beside her, Asriel nodded, but she looked confused. 

“Frisk, I’m so glad to hear you say that,” Athena murmured, still keeping her head lowered. “And no, it's not because you're a challenging patient,” she added quickly, and Frisk closed her mouth with a slight smile. 

“It's because even my son has been asking why you don't retire,” she explained, raising her head at last with a small smile. “We've all been scared for you for a while.” 

“Oh,” Frisk whispered, blushing. She'd truly had no idea, but everyone was now admitting this, and it was embarrassing to her. “How weak have I been, lately?”

Asriel glared at her – and so did Athena. 

“Fuck forbid you ever have a limit, idiot,” Asriel growled. “Because you're not human at all. Or monster. You're just a machine, right?”

Frisk glowered back at him. “Overkill,” she grumbled. 

“I don't think so,” Athena said, her eyebrows raised. “You do. You always want to do everything, yourself. And how many times have I had to get your heart restarted because of that?”

“Overkill!” Frisk protested.

“I think so, too,” Athena agreed with a smirk. 

Frisk bit her lip, looking away again, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning away from Asriel. “I didn't ask for any of that.”

“But you made sure it happened to you and no one else, regardless,” Athena answered sharply. “Often.”

“Not always,” she whispered, her mind swimming with images of others hurt in her place, and her eyes filled with tears. “Not as much as I wish.”

“You see?” Asriel said, nudging her, and she looked up at him. “Even now, you still want to do everything, Frisk.”

“Because... because I never want anyone to be hurt because of me...” Frisk whispered, her voice breaking. “Least of all my own daughter...”

Asriel touched her cheek and brushed her tears away gently, and she looked up at him, sniffling. “You say I kept getting hurt, so that's the legacy I’ve left for our daughter to take over...”

“Except you know she'll always come to you for advice or help, two things you, yourself, never had – because no one had ever been Ambassador before you,” Athena corrected gently. “You know everything about it, and can give her the edge you never had.”

Frisk looked at her, and she nodded. “It's true, Frisk,” Athena insisted. 

The thing was, that's what stunned Frisk; the truth of that, and truly how much of an edge that would be. She'd gone into the job blind, but Nickname would not – and would also have an extra set of eyes alongside her own. 

“Oh,” Frisk whispered – before she covered her face and wept.


	4. Chapter 4

That last night, Frisk stared up at the ceiling, feeling empty and blank, a sharp contrast to how she'd been just a day prior. But it couldn't be helped: it was just how she felt.

Her tests had confirmed what Alphys and Nickname had already known: she was definitely in danger of having a stroke if she didn't change, and as soon as possible.

Knowing it for sure, seeing it on paper and in images, made it real for her, and she was terrified. She didn't want to have a stroke, and she wasn't ready to die, yet.

She would change everything she could in order to keep herself alive. She owed it her family - her parents, too. They'd both risked their lives to keep her alive, despite meeting in situations that required death, and wanted to make the most of that life.

She _would_ change.

But that scared her, too, and it was strange.

Change was a part of her life and always had been, from the moment her parents died in that car. Nothing had ever stayed the same from that very moment.

So why did _this_ frighten her?

_Simple. I don't know who the hell I am, if I'm not Ambassador..._

It was the truth.

And it made her feel empty inside.

* * *

She was not the only one awake that night.

Nickname's eyes were focused above her, too, their colour dark with thought. Beside her, Basket snored softly, her bare skin touching Nicky's and comforting her. Olceal slept on Basket's other side, his arms around his first wife tightly, and that also comforted Nickname.

 _I'm the next Ambassador..._ she thought, her mind swimming with confusion and worry. _Do I even know what that means?_

Sacrifice was the first thing that came to her mind. She knew it took a lot of it, both in regular life, but also _with her own life_ , and she was frightened of that.

_I don't want to die._

_I don't want to get hurt._

_I just want everyone to be happy, safe, and healthy…_

Basket's snores suddenly stopped, and Nickname blinked, lowering her eyes and shifting them to her wife. Basket's eyes slowly opened, looking heavy with sleep and fatigue, still, and Nicky smiled.

“Hi,” she whispered, touching Basket's cheek lightly. She felt her heart swell with happiness when their eyes met, especially when she saw Basket's shine with affection and love, despite her sleepiness.

“Hi,” Basket replied, sliding her arms around Nicky's waist and tugging her closer. Olceal stirred, but simply wrapped his arms around them both, still in his sleep, before settling.

“You okay?” Nicky asked her.

“I was gonna ask _you_ that, love,” Basket admitted, keeping her voice as soft as Nicky's. “Y-you have a lot on your plate, I know...”

Nicky nodded.

“B-but...” Basket pulled Nicky closer and kissed her nose gently. “But, Nicks, you're not alone, okay?”

“Bassy, truly,” Nicky whispered, pressing her forehead to Basket's and closing her eyes. “Knowing you and Olly are with me makes it so much easier to face.”

“I'm glad,” Basket admitted, her eyes closing, too. “I'm glad, love. I never want you to forget that. I never want you to forget you have us. You always have. You always _will_.”

Nickname opened her mouth to thank her, but instead, started to cry. _”Sayang....”_ she managed to choke out, before clinging to Basket and breaking down.

Basket held her close and comforted her, and soon, Olceal was awake and moving closer to do the same, stroking her hair as Basket rubbed her back.

She took that comfort, all of it, and patched her heart with it, making it whole and stronger.

She wasn't alone.

* * *

When Asriel came by in the morning to bring breakfast for Frisk, he found her curled up in a ball with her back to the door. Concern crashed into him, and he tossed the food aside and sat down beside her, placing his hand upon her back.

She winced, then started trembling. Asriel moved closer, about to ask her what was wrong, when she answered.

“Asriel, who the hell am I?”

Asriel blinked, surprised. Of all the years that he'd known Frisk, longer than his prior life and death combine, now, he'd never heard her ask that question.

“Frisk Widijanti Dreemurr,” he answered softly, reaching up and stroking her greying hair slowly. She curled up tighter, but didn't move away.

“But what does _that_ even mean?” she wondered, her voice strained. “For my first ten years, that wasn't even my real name. The only thing that survived that life is my middle name, the name of my father's mother. I... I… I barely remember my _parents_ ' names, anymore...”

He reminded her of them, and she sighed. “Not literally,” she corrected. “I know their names, but... but I don't remember the faces to go with those names...”

“It was so long ago, Frisk,” Asriel replied. “And so much has happened since then.”

“I never even got to save a picture,” she whispered. “Ever. My aunt had them, but when my foster family found them, they... got burned.” She sobbed, surprising Asriel, again. “Because... because they knew what had happened in that car accident... and they wanted me to suffer.” She sobbed again, trembling, now. “I did... I did suffer...”

Asriel couldn't take it, anymore, and he laid down beside her, spooning her and holding her close. She didn't pull away, but she didn't turn around, either.

“So when I jumped... I just wanted to see them, again,” she went on. “I was so _done_ , Asriel! So sick of it all! And at ten! _Ten!”_

“But then you jumped, and your whole life changed,” Asriel reminded her.

Frisk nodded. “Yes. My parents had new faces, but were no less loving. I love them... l-loved them... so much, because they gave me a real family. All of you did...”

Asriel closed his eyes, burying his face into the back of her head, her hair – slightly lank and greasy from her stay in the hospital – tickled his nose but still comforted him.

“And you, Asriel,” she whispered. “My god. I just wanted to give Mami and Papi what they deserved back to them, even if it meant replacing me. I... I never meant for it to happen that soon, b-but... if it hadn't...” She sobbed again.

Asriel swallowed hard. He understood completely, and he nodded, curling closer around her.

“But now... n-now, I can't do what I've always done to live,” she whispered. “Because now it's killing me. And... and I don't know who I am, anymore, Asriel! I don't!”

And finally, she turned around and clung to him, burying her tear-stained face into his chest, her hands going there, to. “Who am I, Asriel?” she pleaded. _“Who am I?!”_

She burst into tears, then, before he could answer, and he did have an answer for her. Who she was was so obvious to him that it pained him to see her earnest confusion and fear. So he kept quiet, holding her close and comforting her through it.

Not long after, Dr Thicke walked in and stopped in the doorway, her heart aching. She could see the two were not fooling around at all, but were in pain, and she felt empathetic pain in return. Despite their start, despite the duplicity, Athena truly loved them both, and wanted nothing but the best for them. She knew this was a horrible thing to be told, and she knew it was even worse to be told that the thing that has made you the person you are must be torn away from you.

But she still had a job to do. She knocked lightly on the door, and the couple jumped.

“We're _not_ fucking,” Asriel grumbled, not moving.

To his surprise, not only did Athena laugh, but Frisk did, too, a soft and tiny giggle, but a real one nonetheless. He held her tighter and kissed her head, and she sighed, relaxing in his arms a bit, but still a little weepy.

Athena walked in and checked the IV, then sighed and left for a moment. She returned with a fresh bag of saline and morphine, muttering about how she had to do everything her “damned self”, as she set the bags up and tossed the others aside.

When Frisk felt it, she blinked in surprise; her whole body and mind suddenly relaxed, and she felt her tears soften. She'd been sore, _very_ sore, and had no idea why or how.

“Uh,” she started weakly, raising her head slightly.

“It's okay,” Athena told her. “It's normal to be in pain after that. It also helps calm you, so that you won’t risk another flare-up, and thus the chance of a stroke. I'm sending you home with two prescriptions – Asriel, please listen, too – and both should help you for at least a few weeks, as you adjust.”

“Adjust,” Frisk muttered bitterly.

“Once these are done and you've had breakfast, we're gonna send you for another X-ray, then discharge you. Are you alright with that?” When Frisk nodded, Athena added, “Good. I'll be back with the scripts.”

When she left, Frisk whispered, “Adjust...?”

Asriel nodded. “Yeah, the new diet and lifestyle stuff. I have _all_ the pamphlets.”

Frisk smiled faintly, looking up at him. He looked back, his own smile small but real, and she suddenly felt the urge to be the utmost honest with him.

“Asriel,” she whispered. “I never truly forgot my name or birthday. I just... _wanted_ to.”

Asriel stared at her in shock, his mouth open but speechless. He nodded, so she went on.

“My name... It's the name of my mami's mother...” She swallowed hard; she hadn’t said or used this name since she'd changed her birth certificate. “My name was... Katie.”

“Katie?” he echoed. It was such a normal name, one that was well-used and popular, and it was strange to try and associate it with his wife.

“Katherine,” she agreed. “But my mami always called me Katie, because my ehmma preferred it, too.”

“You never told me,” Asriel whispered, shocked. “Ever. In the forty-five years we've known each other... Why?”

“Because I'm happiest as Frisk,” she admitted honestly. “I prefer it. Frisk is who I am, who I was when I jumped and survived. But I _was_ Katie.”

“You're _still_ Frisk,” he reminded her, holding her face in his hands. Her eyes looked dull with emotion as well as drugs, but she was still able to understand him, so he went on.

“I can't imagine how hard this is, Frisk. I have no idea--,” He paused, his eyes flaring. “No, that's not true. Frisk, I know _exactly_ how you feel.”

Frisk, however, nodded. “I knew you would,” she admitted. “It’s why I told you.”

Asriel's mind swam. It was true. He knew what it was like to have a happy life for over a decade, only to have it torn away from him. When he got it back, it wasn't the same; everything he'd known and everyone he'd loved was either dead or would never accept him. It was only with Frisk that he found a friend, then himself, again.

Only, not “again”. Asriel was worlds apart from whom he had been before he'd become Flowey. It was a new start, in a familiar place, but new all the same.

He knew exactly how Frisk felt.

And he had her answer the moment he'd truly comprehended this.

With sudden desperation, he grabbed Frisk's face again and held it close to his, staring into her eyes, eyes that stared back, eyes that were so dark and warm and _beautiful_...

And quickly, his words tumbling out as he tried to explain it all, he told her his solution.

Frisk stared at him through it all, but by the end, she was in tears, again, clinging to him and sobbing into his chest.

She nodded, then, the next sob sounding a little like a laugh. “Yes,” she gasped out. “Yes, it's perfect.”

Asriel smiled, relieved, and held her close through her tears, never once pulling away – until they both got hungry. Then, they spent their breakfast talking about how to go forward.

And with it, Frisk felt herself return. And remain.


	5. Chapter 5

The moment Frisk got home, she started crying. She knew why, felt like a fool for doing so, but she knew, at the same time, that she had to.

Otherwise, it would simply remain within her and grow.

Asriel walked her in slowly, holding her hand to his chest and taking a step each time with her. When he'd sat her down on the bench in the foyer and closed the door, she was hunched over and in tears, and he moved to kneel down in front of her, placing his hands on her knees. She grabbed them and held them in place, nodding, and he smiled.

“Take your time,” he whispered. He understood completely: she hadn't known how certain she'd been that she wasn't coming home until she was actually _there_.

After a moment, Frisk whispered, “Okay.”

Asriel got to his feet and kept hold of her hands, and helped her to her feet again, holding her close when she got a little dizzy.

They walked slowly to their bedroom, quiet. There wasn’t much to say, really. At this point of their life together, they knew each other so well that speech was almost unnecessary for communication. A look, a gesture – even a slight twitch – was all part of a language they'd taught each other.

Therefore, Asriel knew that, by the time Frisk was lying down and comfortable, she would be likely there for the rest of the night. This was proven the case when he tried to get her to wake up and put on pyjamas, and she actually rolled her eyes at him and growled. Clearly, the hospital visit and the medications were catching up on her, and she was exhausted.

Patiently, and with a gentleness that had Frisk in tears, again, Asriel helped her undress, and was about to help her dress into her pyjamas when she stopped him.

Her eyes went to his, before they moved to the bathroom, then back to his. He smiled faintly and nodded, and she smiled in return, despite the tears in her eyes.

Together, they showered, Asriel mostly helping Frisk wash away the last few days in the hospital. She let him, tired and sore and too weepy to focus on much, save how nice he felt and how kind he was. He understood that, too, and simply made sure to do whatever it took to comfort her.

By the time they were dressed in pyjamas and back in bed, Frisk was half-asleep and stumbling. Asriel sighed, picking her up and carrying her back to the bed, and when she didn't even protest, he knew she was grateful for the help. Once he had her under the covers and tucked in beside him, the lights out, she was already asleep, her hands still holding onto one of his lightly.

Asriel stayed up for most of the night, as while it was dark out, it was only about 21:00 when they'd come home. Therefore, he was too awake to sleep, yet, so he spent it watching over her.

He couldn't help it. He had to. Her first night home was important to him, and he wanted to make sure she kept breathing through it. He knew there was no chance of her stopping, as she was on medication that helped, but he didn't care.

He needed that placebo.

So he stayed awake, falling asleep only when it was well into the earliest hours of the next day.

* * *

The first thing Frisk did when she woke up the next morning was turn to her husband. She tried to move as slowly and as gently as possible, but he still jolted awake, anyway, his eyes opening and going wide with panic.

She regretted that. She regretted that he'd been burnt so badly by this.

“Shh...” she whispered, moving over to him and placing her hands on his cheeks. He closed his eyes and grabbed her, hugging her tight and hiding his face into her shoulder, shaking a little. “I'm okay, love...”

“Sorry,” he rasped out, his nails digging into her back. “I'm sorry, I was... I just got...”

“Scared,” she finished, and he nodded gratefully. “It's okay. I understand.”

Asriel sniffled, and Frisk closed her eyes, kissing the top of his head gently, between his horns. He clung tighter from that, openly crying, now, and she held him through it, never once letting go.

And when Asriel calmed, and started to not only kiss her neck, but move his palms along her body, she smiled – and still held him tight.

* * *

Nickname woke to the sound of her text message alert, and she stirred awake, blindly groping for her phone before she growled and opened her eyes halfway, finally finding her damned phone and checking it.

When she'd settled back onto the bed, Basket curled up beside her, again, only now she was awake, too. (Olceal was already awake; he woke earlier than they did on the weekends, and used the time to read – often making his wives breakfast once he knew they were up, too. He _was_ a chef, after all.)

“Who?” Basket wondered sleepily, her eyes closed again.

“Mami,” Nicky explained. “She wants to meet up with me and talk about how we're going to do this.”

Basket was awake by the time she'd finished, her eyes open and on her own. “What's gonna happen?” she asked.

“Well,” Nicky sighed, scrolling through her mother's rather lengthy message. “She wants to resign informally, first, until she's certain the job will go to me. Once she knows for sure – and we all know it will happen – she'll resign in the Chambers, and I have to be beside her, to literally take her place.”

“The Chambers _suck_ ,” Basket complained. “They're so boring, or when they're not, they're just annoying.” When Nicky blinked at her, she blushed. “What? I watch the Parliament Channel, sometimes!”

Nicky smiled at her, feeling oddly grateful to know this. It meant that Basket was keeping up with daily politics, which in turn would be useful for Nicky, too; she'd make better support with the more she knew.

“Olly finds it frustrating and never does,” Basket then admitted, rolling her eyes. “If he does, he usually ends up yelling at the screen before storming out to play PUB or something to vent his anger.” She smiled a little. “It's kinda cute.”

Nicky smiled, too; she agreed. She was a little disheartened to know that her husband wasn't into politics, but at least her wife was, and it helped immensely.

Speaking of their husband, he suddenly peered around the door and into the room, beaming at them both.

“Morning, loves!” he greeted, slipping back into bed with them despite being dressed in his pyjamas – the only one of them dressed at all.

They both laughed and hugged him between them, and he joined them for a moment.

Then, he asked, “What's up?”

Nicky smiled and told him, her head resting on his shoulder. Basket had curled up into his side and her head rested on his thigh, her eyes closed in contentment as she listened.

“When?” Olceal asked when she finished, blinking. He wasn't opposed to the idea of going with her to the Chambers, and absolutely would if she wanted him to... but it would be a lie if he claimed he was happy about it.

“Mami says as soon as possible,” Nicky replied, her hand going to Basket's hair and stroking it gently. “She still needs a few more days off before she can even think about talking to Crombie, but she wants to when she is able to.”

Basket sighed, but this time with frustration. “Honestly, Nicks? I feel terrible for your mom. She must feel like _shit_ over this.”

Nicky bit her lip and nodded. “I do, too,” she admitted. “And I think she does, yeah...”

Olceal frowned. “What if we had a little party before she goes back? Y'know, when things are calmer for her? So that she knows we still love her and support her?”

Nicky sat up just before he finished, and had pounced on him the second his question concluded, making him squeak with surprise and Basket laugh with amusement.

“Yes, please,” Nicky whispered into his chest, nodding over and over. “Oh, Olly, that would be _wonderful_!”

“We should talk to everyone, make it a surprise,” Basket suggested, turning around so that she could look up at the both of them.

And this time, Basket was pounced on and hugged, and again it brought gentle laughs from both her and Olceal.

“I love you both so much,” Nicky suddenly sobbed out, unable to help it. She sat up and hugged them both to her tight, and in turn they hugged her back, as well as each other. “I've never loved anyone so much... I’m so lucky... I’m so lucky...!”

Basket leaned down and kissed her lips softly, stroking her hair from her face. “Nicks, hon, it's okay... it really is...”

When she leaned down to kiss her nose, Nicky suddenly moved her head up and kissed Basket's lips, instead, one hand going to the back of Basket's head and leading her down against her. With her other hand, however, without even looking, she started to unbutton Olceal's pyjama top, and Basket soon helped, making him squirm and laugh shyly.

They broke apart, grinned at each other, then both pounced on him, making quick work of his pyjamas (something he helped with, honestly) – before they lunged for him, instead.

And Nicky’s heart soared, those tears of joy running down her cheeks – and then being quickly kissed away.

With them, Nickname knew she could do _anything_.


	6. Chapter 6

“Mm...” Frisk whispered, her face sweaty and red but happy. She buried her face into Asriel's sweaty shoulder, sweat she could feel even through his fur, and she smiled, feeling like a dork.

 _So much sweat,_ she thought stupidly. 

Asriel laughed weakly, pulling her closer, before he gasped out, “That never gets old, does it?”

“Even as we do,” Frisk agreed happily, her eyes closed.

Asriel was quiet for a moment, thinking hard and trying to word what he wanted to say properly. Frisk took the time to bask in the afterglow, one hand idly tracing the scars upon his body. There were fewer than hers, but they were still there, and she touched each one with tenderness that made him want to weep.

“Frisk,” he began, his voice wavering. “I... I'm so glad we're old...”

He wanted to smack himself after he said it, as he'd worded it wrong as usual, but Frisk suddenly shifted closer and nodded.

She understood. And felt the same way.

“And now,” she whispered, “I have the lucky chance of getting even older... And all because of how brave our little girl is...”

Asriel sniffled, burying his face into the top of her head, mindful of his horns. “Nicky,” he whispered back. “Fuck, she's amazing. She can do it. I know she can.”

“Me, too,” she agreed.

Asriel's phone suddenly chimed, and he growled, then pulled away reluctantly to answer it. It was a text message, and it made him squeak – and grin.

_”Papi, we want to throw a surprise party for Mami, a retirement party, and I need your help.”_

When Frisk attempted to peer over and look, he squawked and turned the screen of, blushing.

“Asriel, it's not porn,” she sighed. “Gimme. Who is it from?”

He kept the phone out of her reach, however, his face burning. “It's from Nicky,” he admitted, finding it hard to lie to her; he'd never been able to very well ever since he was himself, again.

“Is everything okay?” she asked worriedly, her smile vanishing.

“Yes!” he agreed, happy to be honest. But _now_ he had to lie. “She needs my help with the house. Something's wrong with the gutters.”

 _“Again?!”_ Frisk sighed. It was a common problem they'd had when they'd lived there, and she was disappointed that now Nicky had to deal with that stupid problem.

“Yep,” he sighed, deciding to actually clean the gutters when he got there, so he wouldn't be lying, after all. He sat up, stretched, and sighed.

Frisk smiled, sat up behind him, and hugged him from behind. “Lean back!” she advised, and he did, grinning. She squeezed, and he arched against it. Immediately, they both heard his back crack and crunch, and they both laughed.

“Old fart,” she teased, before turning around, herself. “My turn.”

He did the same for her, loving it when she giggled again, especially when her back was louder and grosser. It was something they tried to do every morning, ever since they'd started to feel it, and it was fun as well as refreshing.

“Thank you,” Frisk sighed, leaning back against him and closing her eyes. “You're wonderful.”

He leaned down and kissed her cheek gently, and she looked up. He looked back at her with a warm smile.

“While I’m gone,” he advised, “why not get started?”

Frisk lit up immediately, the woes of New Solace and her upcoming resignation vanishing. “Yes!” she agreed, clapping her hands once. “That's great!”

“But for now...”

And suddenly Asriel scooped her up, holding her in his arms, before he got to his feet with a pleased grin. He was happy, even now, that he was still strong enough to carry her.

So was Frisk. She cuddled into his arms and replied, “Shower time?”

He winked. “Mostly. We'll probably need to wash twice.”

“Take me away, Irish Spring Man,” she agreed, making him laugh so hard he almost fell down and dropped her.

But take her away, he did.

* * *

“Okay,” Nicky began, standing up and holding her hands together in front of her. Surrounding her in a neat horseshoe were her family, save her mother, and she wanted all of their attention. “So. Surprise party for Mami.”

“THIS IS EXCITING,” Papyrus admitted, beaming at Nicky. “I DO LOVE TO MAKE FRISK LAUGH.”

“you are good at that,” sans agreed.

“Good!” Nicky replied, smiling. “Above all, I want this party to be the best for Mami. I want her to forget what's happened, what _will_ happen, and what _could_ happen. All I want is for Mami to have one night that she can simply be Frisk, and nothing and no one else.”

Asriel beamed at her, his eyes welling up with tears.

“We should serve only snail pie,” Dandelion snerked, earning her a stern but twitching glare from Undyne.

“Actually, uh...” Asriel broke in, looking sad. “Frisk hasn't eaten pie for a few years, now...”

Dandy blushed, immediately feeling guilty, as she remembered, now, too – and why. “Sorry,” she whispered.

(Undyne scooped her up into her lap and kissed her nose, in turn making her squeal and squirm – but giggle.)

“It's perfectly okay, Dandy,” Nicky replied honestly, smiling at her and making her feel even better. “And while I admit to being tempted to tease my mom, too, there are other ways to do so that won't upset her.”

“O-oh!” Alphys suddenly broke in, her tail starting to wag. “Wh-what about...? What about...?” She blushed deeply. “W-we could invite _everyone_...”

“Uhm,” Olceal murmured shyly. “The house isn't big enough for everyone Frisk loves...”

“No, but we should invite as many familiar faces as possible,” Nicky agreed. She looked at Alphys. “Have you asked Uncle Metta?”

She nodded, smiling. “He'll be in Ebott in two hours, he said.”

Dandelion clapped happily when she heard this. She was rather fond of Mettaton, after all, one of the few people who engaged in his perpetual theatrics (Basket was one, too).

“WHY DON'T WE ASK HIM TO HELP?” Papyrus wondered.

Nicky paused, chewing on her lip and pacing a little in place. “Well...” she then admitted, looking sheepish. “It _would_ be easier...”

“And you know he'd love to,” Alphys agreed.

“Okay,” Nicky agreed. “Let's--,”

She staggered, then, her knees giving out, and her eyes went unfocused and her voice silent. She felt hands grab her as she went down, but she could only see what her mind was showing her.

_A shield of bright, glittering green._

_Eyes ringed with black, beloved eyes, cherished eyes..._

_Gunshots, three of them, one hesitant and regretted instantly._

_Olceal holding a gun and looking horrified by it._

_Basket, holding a hand to her chest and falling, her eyes dimming and..._

That was it.

She shut her eyes and growled, feeling dizzy and nauseated. She wished, for the millionth time, that her magic was anything else but this. She wished she knew how to use _real_ magic, instead of being tortured by it in her head...

She felt Basket's hands – she knew them so well by now – take her own and give her both a pen and a small pad of paper.

Nicky took both and quickly wrote it all down. Then, she threw them aside and grabbed hold of Basket tight, bursting into tears.

The entire room froze in shock, even Basket.

“Nicks, lovie, what's wrong?” Basket whispered fearfully, starting to stroke Nicky's long brown hair.

But Olceal had picked up the pad and was reading it, and his eyes darkened with fear, his hands shaking. “No,” he whispered. “ _No_. No, _please_... No... Not... Not my Bass...”

Nickname grabbed his arm and pulled him to her and Basket, and the three hugged tight, despite Basket still being confused.

Then, Olceal handed her the notepad, and she read it, her face paling. “Wh-what...?” she whispered.

“What the fuck is going on?!” Undyne suddenly exploded, getting to her feet and glaring. She wasn't angry, but scared – especially knowing it was obviously about her eldest child.

Silently, Basket handed her the pad, one Undyne snatched from her furiously. She then read it aloud – and by the end, her voice was choked.

Alphys shook so hard that Dandelion crawled into her lap and looked up at her. Alphys wasn't looking at anything, her eyes wide and opaque with terror. When Dandy touched her now-wet cheeks, Alphys closed her eyes and swallowed hard, then grabbed hold of Dandy and hugged her tight.

“Okay,” Alphys then whispered shakily, realising that it was she who needed to speak. She held Dandelion to her, who clung to her tight; even now, she still favoured Alphys. “We need to calm down.”

Nickname nodded, sniffling hard. Basket looked over, but Olceal kept his face buried into Basket's shoulder, digging his claws into her back hard.

“We don't know when this will happen, or where,” Alphys continued, unaware that she was rocking Dandelion slowly in her arms – and Dandy was comforted immensely by it. “But now that we do, we can prepare for it.”

Nicky nodded, feeling soothed by her mother-in-law's words.

Undyne sat down, staring at her wife in awe. “Alphy,” she whispered, taking one of her hands – the left – and kissing it.

She couldn't help it; Alphys hadn't asked to be Headmistress, and certainly hadn't asked to be looked to as the family matriarch, but here she was, doing both.

And doing them  _well_. So well that Undyne went bright red, her eye wavering as it met Alphys's. She kissed her wife's hand again, and Alphys's frightened expression softened.

“F-for now,” Alphys went on shakily, “I know the urge to panic is strong, and-and I know _I_ want to hide Basket in a...”

“Basket,” Dandelion replied suddenly.

It was exactly what was needed, and they all laughed, with varying degrees.

Only sans didn't laugh, but he did force a smile. He looked over at Nickname, who didn't notice; she was too busy trying to comfort her spouses, as well as be comforted by them.

But his eyes dimmed with worry, and he had to look away.

“Right,” Alphys agreed, sounding a bit better, now. “But for now, we should focus on Frisk. We-we'll stay vigilant, _very_ vigilant.” And here, her eyes flashed yellow. “But we need to focus on Frisk, to make her happy.”

Everyone clearly agreed with this, as most were nodding.

“Mummy?” Dandelion suddenly asked.

“Yes?”

“What is Auntie Frisk gonna do now, for work?” she asked.

Everyone looked to Asriel from his, knowing him to be the best source and likely the only one who would ever know that answer.

He grinned; he did. And he told them.

Everyone stared at him in shock. It was so simple, and yet so perfectly brilliant.

“are you sure _you_ came up with that, weed?” sans wondered idly. “because that doesn't sound like you. you're not _that_ smart.”

Asriel glowered at him. “I may not be smart, _bastard_ , but I know my wife. And she agreed with me. So go pound sand.”

There were some snickers at that, and giggling from Dandelion – and Alphys. (sans sulked in her direction – fakely – and Alphys giggled harder, his true goal.)

“Is that what she's doing, now?” Nicky wondered.

“Yeah. Also,” he added, wincing. “I gotta clean out your gutters.”

Nicky laughed, allowing it to calm her heart and push that vision away. She knew her father well, and knew exactly why he needed to do that. And it was oddly comforting.

With that, the tension eased and dissipated, and they were finally able to plan Frisk's party.

But at the back of his mind, Olceal watched his wives closely, his eyes dark with fear.

One he would carry for almost a year to the day.

* * *

Nicky didn't tell Frisk about her vision, and Asriel actually agreed with this decision – though sans did not. For Nicky, Frisk didn't need that added stress, especially since it didn't directly involve her, and while Asriel was still scared of the vision, he agreed that Frisk needed to know only of something came of it.

Besides, when he got home, Frisk was exactly where he'd left her, only now wearing headphones and listening to music on her phone. She sat at the desk she'd use as a teen, and strangely, for a moment, Asriel stood where his parents had over thirty years ago – only he had no way of knowing it – and watched her with an affectionate smile.

But Frisk knew. She raised her head and caught sight of him – and went pale, her eyes widening and her whole body jumping with surprise, until she – clearly – now recognised him and calmed down.

He was at her side the moment colour came back to her cheeks, and he touched them, so that her eyes opened, too. They did, met his, and she smiled.

“Hi,” she whispered, reaching up and stroking his ears lightly, so that he'd only partly melt. “Sorry. You... reminded me of something...”

She was shaken up from that, too. It was as if she'd suddenly become barely eighteen, again, and was running late to go and see Flowey...

She laughed at that thought, her eyes filling with tears, and Asriel knelt down in front of her, taking better hold of her face and rubbing the tears from her cheeks gently. She smiled weakly up at him, her eyes dark with tears but glowing with love for him, love so clear and open and just _naked_....

“Frisk,” he whispered, sitting up a little on his knees. “Tell me? I want to help. I know this is hard. Please...?”

Frisk smiled at him wider, and she told him. “When you stood there, watching me... Papi and Mami had done the same, the night I went to see you... and told you I jumped...” She sniffled, her eyes lowering in slight embarrassment. “For a moment, I thought... I stupidly thought...”

Asriel understood, and he grabbed her and hugged her tight, holding her close. She clung to him, bursting into tears, and he joined her quietly, unable to help it. Whenever Frisk cried, he always joined her, simply because she didn't cry very often, so when she did, it meant a great deal.

“I miss them,” she sobbed out. “It’s been over five years, and I still miss them so fucking much...”

That shocked Asriel even more. Frisk wasn't like him, and didn't toss about swearing as casually as he did. Therefore, again, when she did, he knew it was very serious.

“And with this...” She waved to her desk. “I have to remember. And with that, I have to remember how much I’ve lost, loved, let go...”

Asriel kissed her forehead, and she looked up at him, her face a mess of tears and sorrow. “Yes,” he agreed. “But you also get to remember them, and remember what they gave you, too. Right?”

Frisk's face crumpled, nodding, and she clung to him, burying her face into his chest and submitting to her tears. Asriel held her close, comforting her as best as he could.

* * *

Mettaton was overjoyed by the prospect of the party, and he immediately took over, just as they all had assumed – and perhaps planned – he would.

The moment he was back in Ebott, he went right to Undyne and Alphys's and sat them down, taking out a file folder from his bag and setting it down in front of them.

Before he could even speak, however, both Undyne and Alphys were laughing, leaning against each other for support.

Dandelion shrugged when Mettaton looked at her; she didn't know why, either.

“Alphysy, my sweet, I _will_ kick your adorable ass,” he warned her cheerfully, tapping one finger upon the folder. “This is _important_!”

“S-sorry,” Alphys gasped out. “It’s just... You're _wonderful_ , Metta.”

She reached out and covered his hand, and he blinked, looking at her closer. Her eyes were teary, but her smile was bright. He hadn't been told about Nicky's vision, yet, and was bemused by this affectionate response.

“We had a bet that you'd already have shit written down,” Undyne added, laughing a few times between words. “And you do. You're a pretty adorable little Bunsen burner, aren't you?”

And she covered Alphys's hand with hers, squeezing both hers and Mettaton’s with affection, too.

“Dandelion, are your parents drunk?” he asked her calmly.

“No,” she replied honestly. “It's been a long day.” She paused. “It's good you're here, Uncle.”

When her mothers nodded and smiled, coughing a bit or adding a few giggles, Mettaton smiled, warmed by this.

“I do always miss you,” he admitted. “Perhaps I should do less travelling...”

Alphys lit up suddenly, but Undyne sighed. “Whatever, let's focus on _this_ , please! It's _important_!” Her eye sparked when she realised she'd echoed him, and when he noticed, he smirked in return.

That was something they could all agree with, and together, they went over Mettaton's meticulous plans, allowing the joy of the event drive away the fear.


	7. Chapter 7

When Asriel got up to fetch Frisk for bed (he'd been reading for a few hours as she worked, and it was getting late), he found her asleep at her desk, drooling a little on her arm. He smiled, walking over and touching her shoulder, shaking her gently. She stirred, and to his relief, she opened her eyes almost right after, their colour dark with sleep.

“Come here,” he coaxed her, and she nodded, pushing herself up to her feet and walking into his arms, clinging tight. He picked her up into his arms, and he heard her purr softly, her face buried into his chest.

He carried her to their bedroom, then poured her onto the bed. She sighed deeply and curled into a ball, but one hand tugged on his, and he laughed softly and laid down behind her, curling around her. She purred again, and he smiled.

“How many?” he wondered softly, his eyes closing when he felt her caress his arm with her fingertips.

“Mm, I think ten...”

Asriel blinked in surprise. “Already?”

She shook her head. “No, just tonight.” She paused. “Thirty, now,” she concluded casually.

Asriel was shocked. “Frisk, you're kidding me, right?”

“Noo...” she growled. “Go count. I dare you.”

He shook his head and held her tighter, grinning giddily. “No, my love, I believe you. I'm just... That's fucking amazing, Frisk!”

She snorted. “Nothing else to do,” she replied. “Plus, lots of stuff to say.”

Asriel kissed her head gently. “There's no rush, love.”

“Mm,” she answered. “I know. I just am finding it... really cathartic.”

“Yeah?”

She nodded, waking up a little. “I thought it would hurt too much,” she admitted, “going back and thinking about it all, and writing it all down. Doing that makes it permanent. It kind of scares me, too. But mostly, it's comforting. Because it means no one will be forgotten.”

Frisk smiled, opening her eyes. They were stinging a little. “Especially Mami and Papi,” she added. “And you. _All_ of you. I just... want you to live forever...”

“And that book will make it happen,” Asriel agreed, his heart so warm and touched. “It's perfect.”

“I dunno,” she admitted. “I've never had to write like this before. What if it's terrible?”

Asriel snorted this time. “Frisk, you dummy, you write all of your own speeches and lectures.”

“So?”

“So, have you ever _listened_ to yourself? You tell them like stories.”

Frisk blinked, surprised – because she realised he was right. She did that to make them sound interesting and captivating. She did that without really thinking about it. And it had worked, too.

She blushed, then pulled Asriel's hand up and held it to her face, closing her eyes. He rubbed her cheek gently, brushing the tears away, and she sniffled.

“Frisk,” he whispered, closing his eyes and smiling. “You're so silly.”

She laughed weakly, the sound choked. “Yeah,” she agreed. “I really am.”

Asriel moved closer, then wrapped his arms around her and rolled her over, so that they faced each other. The moment their eyes met, Frisk’s lit up and sparked. She smiled, reaching up and cupping his face into her hands. His heart jumped a little when she did, because the smile she wore was so much like the one she wore when she'd seen him for the first time, in his mind.

After all of these years, that love still burnt bright.

And the funniest thing was, he had no idea that his eyes were lit with the very same flames.

They kissed, and didn't stop for quite some time.

And those fires blazed anew.

* * *

Nicky was curled up in their bed, alone, when Basket walked in. It was dark, and Nicky had her back to the door.

“Nicks?” Basket called gently. “Mum called; Mettaton just got in. Do you wanna visit, tomorrow?”

“Bass,” Nicky answered. Her voice was tiny, and broke on that one syllable. Basket was kneeling beside her in moments, her eyes on Nicky's and her hands going to her tear-streaked face.

“It's okay,” Basket whispered. She knew why Nicky was upset the moment she saw her tears. “ _I'm_ okay, cupcake...”

“Right now,” Nicky sniffled. “But... but it'll happen. And... A-and…” She reached out, grabbed Basket's shoulders, and tugged her over, moving back and pulling Basket onto the bed with her. Basket stumbled, but Nicky caught her, and soon she found herself being hugged onto, Nicky's face buried into her chest, her ear pressed over Basket's heart.

“Hey...” Basket murmured, stroking her hair. Nicky’s arms tightened around her waist, her nails digging into her back. “Nicks, it's okay... I'm here...”

“Don't die,” Nickname pleaded desperately. “ _Don't die!_ Please, _never_ for me. Never at _all_ …”

Basket bit her lip hard to silence herself. She was going to say she couldn't promise that – the truth – but when she felt Nickname's nails dig into her back, she realised Nicky wanted her to lie.

“Okay,” Basket whispered, kissing the top of her head. “I promise.”

Nicky sobbed, then, breaking down completely, and Basket held her tight.

* * *

The next morning, Frisk and Asriel awoke to the sounds of Frisk's phone overcome with messages. It was non-stop, and for a moment, they both just gaped at it, amazed; she was getting more messages than the phone could even alert her for.

“What is _happening_?” she demanded. She turned her phone's sound off, then opened the first message she touched. And when she did, she groaned and fell back onto Asriel, dropping her phone into her lap.

For a moment, Asriel was terrified she'd fainted, but when he caught her, he saw she was just angry, and he kissed her nose, confusing – and calming - her.

“Someone from the hospital finally blabbed,” Frisk growled. “I should've expected it sooner, but here we are...”

Asriel read a random message: _”Mrs Dreemurr, we heard you had a stroke, are you alright?”_

“They have it wrong, too,” he sighed. “They think you had a stroke.”

“Dammit!” Frisk cried, covering her face and hiding into his shoulder, seconds from angry tears. “I... I have to address the Chambers today, then...”

Asriel took the phone and tossed it aside. “Maybe,” he sighed, holding her in his lap and stroking her hair, slowly. “But not alone. With me, and with Nicky.”

Inwardly, though, he hated it; this mean she would have to resign before she had her party, and he didn't like that. He'd hoped to cheer her up before she had to give it all to Nicky...

Frisk nodded, clinging to him. “Can you call her...?” she asked softly, her voice wavering. “I'm... too busted up right now... and my phone is useless...”

“Of course,” he agreed, grabbing his own phone. It had some messages, true, but not nearly the same volume or consistency. He was able to call Nicky no problem, and did so as soon as he could.

* * *

Nickname, however, didn't answer; Basket did. “Hey, Dad,” she greeted him softly. (It made him blush, but she never found that out.) “Nicks is still asleep. She had a rough night.”

“Sorry, but... Can you wake her, Bass? It's urgent.”

She frowned, wanting to protest, but his tone changed her mind. She lowered the phone and turned to her wife, shaking her awake, gently. Nicky stirred, then growled, moving to bite Basket's shoulder, which made her laugh – and Nicky smile sleepily. Basket handed her the phone, telling her who it was, and Nicky took it, lying on Basket's chest as she spoke.

“Hi, Papi,” she murmured, her eyes closed. “What's wrong...?”

“Nicky, the news about your mom came out, and she needs to talk to the Chambers today, to resign before this gets out of hand,” he blurted out.

Then, he lowered his voice. “I'm scared for her,” he admitted. “I’m scared this stress will set her off. I need you here, with us, then at the Chambers.”

Nicky was wide awake now, sitting up and nodding. “Okay. When and where? And can I bring the harem?”

Basket giggled when she heard that; it was what Frisk called their triad, and it was the first time Nicky had used it seriously. (Well, mostly; she did smile a little when she heard her Bass laugh.)

Asriel agreed, told her, and she repeated it to Basket, who memorised it easily.

“I'm sorry, Nicky,” Asriel then admitted. “I wish we had more time.”

“We can still have the party,” she insisted. “Just after I’m sworn in. Maybe it's better that way, too.”

“I guess we'll see,” he answered softly. “Gotta go. See you soon. Love you.”

“Love you, too, Papi,” Nicky replied, before she hung up. By then, Olceal was awake, his chin on Basket's hip and his eyes on Nicky's. She explained everything, and to her relief, they both nodded easily.

Overcome, she leapt on them and hugged them tight, and when they held her close, she cried, just a little – and they kept her within their arms.

Exactly where she needed to be.


	8. Chapter 8

The first thing that happened, when everyone met up at City Hall, was a hug-fest. Granted, they had to do it inside, as the entire place was swamped with media, but they still managed, which was nice.

Everyone still thought that Frisk either had a stroke or was dying. When people actually caught sight of her, they actually wrote in articles later on (after this meeting) that they were certain she was a body double, and that the real Frisk was dead.

Since she didn't know that, yet, however, Frisk was relatively calm, just nervous and annoyed. When she saw Nicky and realised she felt the same, they both shared a knowing smile and hugged tight, Frisk standing on her tiptoes to reach.

 _“Apakah kamu siap,_ Nicky?” Frisk whispered.

Nicky grinned and whispered back, _”Saya lahir siap,_ Mami.”

Frisk laughed softly and kissed her cheek, and she kissed Frisk's with a teary grin.

Around them stood Asriel, Basket, Olceal, Alphys, and Undyne; Mettaton was with Dandelion, Papyrus, and sans in the quiet room, where the others would wait, too, once Frisk, Nicky, and Asriel went into the Chambers. It was a private meeting, so not even family was allowed, but they would still be around, anyway.

“You okay, punk?” Undyne asked Frisk, her tone gentle.

Frisk broke away from Nicky and smiled up at her, nodding a little.

Alphys touched her hand. “Frisk, we're here for you, always, o-okay?”

“Thank you,” she replied sincerely. “I'll see you after.”

“Knock ‘em dead!” Mettaton called, and Dandelion laughed.

With a blown kiss to them, Frisk took Nicky's hand, then Asriel's, and together, they walked into the Chambers.

When the door closed, everyone's expressions either fell – or turned conspiratorial.

“SHOULD IT BE TODAY? WHAT DID KING GARDENER SAY?” Papyrus asked, his voice as soft as possible.

“he wanted it _before_ all of this, bro,” sans reminded him.

“I KNOW THIS, WHICH IS WHY I'M ASKING FOR THE _UPDATED_ PLAN, SANS,” Papyrus sighed; even now, sans still sometimes talked down to him, and it was very, very frustrating.

Mettaton reached over and touched his arm gently. “You're right,” he agreed, shooting sans a rather angry look. “Asriel said that it would be best to throw the party once Nicky is sworn in formally, and it's broadcasted.”

 _“Yaaaawn,”_ Basket groaned, leaning back on Olceal dramatically, her hand on her forehead. “I’m already so _whipped_ ; she has me watching _horrible_ things to support her…”

“Bassy, you watch that channel with every meal, and by _choice_ ,” Olceal reminded her, smirking, and she flicked his nose with a wink.

“So, what about _that_ very night?” Undyne wondered. “The sessions never last beyond five; we could have a night party."  She lit up. "We could even watch the rebroadcast of it together and make fun of it!"

Alphys nodded, her tail wagging slightly at the idea. “We _should_ throw it at New Solace Home,” she added. “B-but this also means that, between the broadcast and the party, Nicky needs to be away, because w-we can't miss the broadcast, ourselves.”

“Yes, you can,” Olceal replied. “Well, _you_ can.” He waved his hand to everyone but Basket. “Bass and I will be _here_ , and so will D--ah--Asriel.”

Basket flicked his nose again. “Call him Dad, sweetheart,” she commanded. “I do. It's okay.”

Olceal blushed, and mercifully, Papyrus interjected. “THIS IS ACTUALLY VERY TRUE,” he agreed, his hand now rubbing his chin. (The other, still held in place by Mettaton, who'd forgotten his hand was there – but Papyrus hadn't.)

But sans shook his head. “no,” was his reply. “you guys should, but i need to be here, too, to protect them.”

“That's why _we're_ here, Uncle,” Basket answered, looking offended.

Suddenly, they all heard it: the sounds of raised voices, hands slapping on wooden surfaces, and a call to quiet. It made them shut up, too, sharing a pale and worried look amongst them all.

They remained quiet the entire time after that.

* * *

_“Nepotism!”_

“Aren't we supposed to be a _democracy_ , Dreemurr?!”

Frisk sighed, closing her eyes and lowering her head a little. She tried to block the voices out as best as she could, as she knew if she let them affect her, her body would rebel.

Beside her, Asriel was standing stiffly, his arms crossed and his face furious, but he held his tongue - barely. On Frisk's other side was Nicky, who was also silent – but who bore the cacophony with calm stillness.

She was remembering those voices, the faces to those voices, and the names those faces answered to.

“Can we please act like adults?” Crombie wondered, her eyes closed as she massaged the bridge of her nose. The other councillors quieted down, but at least half of them were not happy with Frisk.

“I know this is hard to accept, everyone. But Mrs Dreemurr has spent decades working. Since she was a child. A _child!_ And most of you were elected no earlier than your _thirties_!”

That seemed to make the dissenters think for a moment.

“Miss Nickname is the _perfect_ replacement,” Mayor Crombie went on – surprising all three of the Dreemurrs. “She is already an adult, with a decade of diplomacy under her belt, and she is literally the embodiment of what true peace is supposed to mean.”

More silence. Nicky suddenly grabbed Frisk's hand and held it tight; both were shaking.

“And Mrs Dreemurr is sick,” Crombie concluded. “She is at risk of losing her life because of this job she can no longer work. There is literally no one else who could ever do this job but her – or her daughter.”

There were mollified murmurings in reply to this, especially when Crombie leaned back and looked up at Frisk, not saying a word. Frisk realised she was expected to speak, again, and she cleared her throat, her ears burning.

“It's true,” she murmured. “In a way, this is nepotism. What kind of politician would I be if I didn't admit that?” She sighed. “But... I... I'm so _tired_ , Council. I’m just _so tired._ And I know my daughter will do a good job, not because she is my daughter, but because she is herself.”

Silence met her words, and when she looked up, she saw that everyone was now looking at Nicky. Frisk touched her arm, then moved to the side, and Nicky took her place – before pausing. She turned back to her mother with shock, her eyes wide, but Frisk smiled at her, nodding. Nicky swallowed hard, then nodded.

“I'm Nickname Dreemurr,” she said, her voice wavering a little with nervousness. “I'm the one you've talked about all of my life – before I was even born, before I was even a glint in my father's eye.”

Beside her, Asriel swallowed a small chuckle, but to her surprise, she saw smiles and heard other soft laughs from the other politicians.

“I've always represented what my mother has always wanted, ever since she and my grandfather met: integrated peace. My grandfather remembered a time when it was reality, and he admitted to me, not long before he died, that he was happy to see it, again.”

Nickname paused, surprised; every word she spoke was unprepared, but no less true or relevant. She was shocking herself, let along her parents – who were staring at her, proudly stunned.

“When he said that to me, I knew. Even before my mother got sick. Even before...” She paused, her eyes flicking to Frisk – who nodded – before she finished. “…before I had my vision of it.”

Those words caused mild chatter, but she quickly spoke over it, her cheeks heating up. “I just knew it would be my destiny. I didn't know _when_ , but I always knew it was a _when_ , and not an _if._ That when is _now_.”

Frisk touched her hand for a moment when she hesitated, and it gave her the final words she knew she needed to say.

“I love our peoples, too. I grew up belonging to both. There is nothing I want more than to protect them, be their bridge, and make them safe.” Nickname's voice wavered again, but she was finished, anyway, so she closed her mouth.

Immediately, so suddenly that her parents jumped alongside her, the Council stood up – and _applauded_.

Some were more enthusiastic than others, and one or two simply did it to follow along, but they all did it – even the Mayor.

Nickname bit the inside of her cheek, halting her tears. She felt Asriel fail, but Frisk succeeded, too.

(Outside, the others heard it – and suddenly relaxed, grinning at each other, before they resumed their plans, and finally made them stick.)

When it calmed, and everyone sat down, Crombie remained standing. “We have to do this again, formally, Miss Dreemurr,” she said gently, her smile a trace sardonic. “And while I know it's likely you won't remember those _exact_ words, they would probably be the best words to say at the official swearing-in ceremony.”

Nicky blinked hard, her mouth opening for a moment, before closing. Beside her, Frisk leaned over and said, “You accept?”

“Of course we do,” Crombie replied, smiling wider – and with more warmth. “We will miss you, Frisk. But we agree: it's Nickname's turn.”

And then, to everyone's shock – including her own – it was Frisk who broke down into tears, then. When her daughter and father moved to comfort her, there was another round of applause, but this was gentler, kinder.

Frisk held the two of them to her tight, never wanting to ever let them go.

She was so happy.

But this was only the start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy, now, A Fan?


	9. Chapter 9

“Well,” Frisk greeted the others with, “that went better than expected.”

Undyne lunged forward and lifted her up into a hug, making them both laugh happily, especially when Undyne added, “No shit, punk!”

Basket was similarly attached to Nicky, kissing her all over her face and making her blush and try to hide behind her hair. But then Olceal caught up and helped Basket, and she was trapped between kisses – and loving it.

Alphys, surprisingly, hugged Asriel. “Th-that wasn't easy, was it?” she asked him gently.

Gratefully, he hugged onto her and nodded, biting his lip. Sometimes, it was strange for him to accept just how well Alphys had gotten to know him. But during moments like this, he truly loved her for it, and cherished her, too.

But then, Nicky cried. “I forgot what I even said!”

Asriel let go of Alphys and smirked at his daughter, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his phone. He gave it to her, and she discovered that he'd recorded the audio of the entire meeting. She slipped away from her spouses to tearfully hug onto him, and he laughed and kissed her cheek in return.

Papyrus was hugging Frisk, now, having wrestled with Undyne for the right to, and when Mettaton saw that, oddly, he went over to her other side and hugged her, too. She blinked, squished by two rather tall people, who were, she saw, now not even looking at her, but each other.

 _Hm_...

“go away,” sans suddenly snapped, and both his brother and his annoyance stepped away, so that he could be the one to hug Frisk. He hugged her tight, his eyes closing, and she hugged him just as tight, smiling.

Regardless of their history, she would always love her dearest uncle – no matter how many times he tested that love.

“told you so,” he added softly, and she laughed, nodding, before they let go.

“I'm starving,” Dandelion suddenly declared, her arms around Nicky's waist. “Can we _please_ eat now?!”

This was an excellent idea – and Frisk knew just the right place. 

* * *

 The moment they sat down and were greeted, Frisk ordered twenty salmon onigiri before even drinks. It made everyone laugh – especially Asriel and Nicky.

When the waitress blinked hard, then nodded, they gave the rest of their orders, and she relaxed, smiling. Frisk wondered if she recognised them, but the waitress made no impression she did.

When she left with their orders, sans said, “she knows who we are.”

Alphys nodded, but everyone else, especially Frisk, looked surprised.

“She absolutely did,” Alphys added, blushing a little – and earning a gentle cheek caress and kiss from Undyne, which made her smile.

“Are we gonna get spit in our food, now?” Dandelion sighed, making a face.

“No,” Undyne replied. “Of course not.”

“Agreed,” Nicky replied. “There are so many of us, which means a huge tip if she's nice. Also, Kenzo's is the one place we've always been able to count on for being safe.”

Asriel went pink. “Mostly,” he muttered, remembering what happened when he and Frisk had first started being together publicly, as a couple. People had taken pictures and posted them with gossip.

He looked around, and saw that, indeed, some people were taking pictures, their faces amazed and smiling. Other customers - regulars, like they were – either nodded to them with a smile before returning to their own means, or simply shrugging and ignoring them.

“You have no idea how much I fucking missed this place when we were abroad,” Basket sighed.

“you've _always_ been a broad, bass,” sans replied cheerfully – especially when Basket threw an empty soy saucer at him. Papyrus caught it and frowned, but sans grinned.

"Durrhurr, Uncle," Basket answered. 

“I agree with Bassy,” Olceal replied. “Australia had great Japanese food, fuck yeah, but not a Kenzo's.”

“Or, if they did, we didn't find it,” Basket agreed.

Nicky rested her cheek on Basket's shoulder. “Do you think we could go together? When I have vacation time?”

Both Basket and Olceal lit right up, and nodded.

“But when do you really think you'll have vacation?” Dandelion wondered, playing with her chopsticks; she practised by picking up her napkin over and over. “You're gonna be Ambassador. How safe would that even be?”

“I’ll _make_ it,” Basket answered sharply, her arm going around her wife protectively. Nicky smiled and snuggled closer, and, just as she planned, Basket relaxed.

Olceal shivered suddenly, then frowned, moving closer to his wife. For some reason, that upset him, but holding her eased his heart.

“ _Fuck_ , you three,” Undyne breathed out, her own arm around Alphys; the other was around Papyrus. (Dandelion sat between sans and Olceal.)

“Fuck you, too, then!” Basket growled, misunderstanding.

“No,” Alphys giggled. “’Fuck – comma – you three'.”

Basket reddened. “S-sorry, Mom.”

Undyne was completely unruffled. “Nah, it's cool,” she replied, which was true; it was how she knew she reacted to things, sometimes. “I love you, Peridot. And I love your harem.”

That made everyone laugh, but the triad in question collectively blushed and snuggled closer to each other.

“SO WHEN IS THE OFFICIAL RESIGNATION?” Papyrus wondered, keeping his voice as soft as possible, so that only they would hear.

“Tomorrow,” Frisk replied. “And I asked: no, only Nicky, her harem, and Asriel are allowed to be there.”

There was an interesting amount of expressions in response to that, but it could be agreed that they were all at least a trace calculating.

Frisk noticed, but took it for disappointment, and she blushed. “I'm sorry, but I really _did_ try,” she murmured.

Quickly, Papyrus reached over and touched her hand, smiling warmly. “WE BELIEVE YOU, OF COURSE. THANK YOU FOR TRYING. WE'LL WATCH AT NEW SOLACE HOME TOGETHER.”

It saved everyone, as Frisk relaxed and smiled - and gave them a cover story for preparing the party, just as they'd planned.

At that moment the onigiri arrive, aside drinks. Everyone took one, and Frisk's eyes shone, watching everyone dig in and enjoy it, loving how happy they looked. She wanted this moment to last forever.

“I love all of you,” she blurted out, getting everyone’s attention. “I love you all so much. You've made my life the best life that there ever could be.” And she blushed; her eyes filled with tears.

“You talk like it's over, punk,” Undyne answered, her voice sharp.

“Well,” Asriel suddenly rasped out. “I... I don't agree, Frisk.”

Frisk turned to him in shock, truly hurt to hear this. Then, he told her why, and she felt terrible.

“Frisk, because of us, your life has been pain and fear,” he told her, reaching up and brushing her tears from her cheeks. “You've faced death since the moment you stood at the edge of the mountain. It's haunted you ever since you landed in front of me. _Because_ of me. Of _us_.”

“Asriel--,” Frisk whispered, but Nicky interrupted.

“Mami,” she murmured. She spoke in Indonesian. “It's true. Even giving birth to  _me_ nearly killed you. I know you're going to say it's not my fault, but it was – just not intentionally.” She switched to English. “Papi is right.”

“No, he fucking _isn't_ ,” Undyne snapped. “Asriel, you asshole. I dunno what Nicky said, but she's wrong, and it's your fault. Frisk's life is awesome.”

Frisk looked at her gratefully, speechless, now.

“Yeah, sorry, no, Dad,” Basket grumbled, frowning at Asriel. “And Nicks, what the hell?”

“hey, shut up for a second?”

Everyone did, glancing at sans with mixed anger and annoyance. He sighed and rolled his eyes.

“you’re _both_ right. frisk has seen a lot of misery, and she's seen a lot of joy. we all have. and as someone who took part in a great deal of that misery, it's still true.” He sighed.

“ACTUALLY, YES,” Papyrus agreed sombrely. “AND ISN'T IT UP TO FRISK TO DECIDE HOW HER OWN LIFE WAS LIVED?”

A small silence followed, broken by Frisk's occasional sniffling.

Then, Frisk said, “Exactly. Th-thank you, Papyrus.” She cleared her throat. “And _I_ decide that my life _has_ been great, despite it all. And that's only because of you, regardless of how it all began.”

There was little anyone could say against that, so instead, there were apologies and agreements – and then their orders finally arrived.

The mood lifted, and for a while, things were cheerful, again. Frisk was delighted by the rice caught in Asriel and Nicky's fur, and as a bonus, so were Basket and Olceal. Undyne was crying from how spicy her noodles were, but refused to give up, because even noodles were not allowed to win against her. Alphys was both enjoying her ramen and occasionally cleaning the sweat from her stubborn wife's forehead. Papyrus and sans, it seemed, were enjoying a very lively – but quiet - debate, one that was rather heated at times, too.

Frisk started crying again, but for a different reason. She was sad, because a chapter of her life was ending, one that had made her who and what she was right now.

But she was so happy, because she trusted Nicky, and was eager to start the next chapter, even if it ended up much shorter.

Asriel touched her cheek, and she looked up, her smile widening when their eyes met, filling again with fresh tears. Asriel looked concerned, but she whispered, “I'm okay.”

“You're crying,” he whispered back, so that no one else heard it. (Nicky did, but didn't mention it.)

“I love you all so much,” she admitted, closing her eyes. “And I miss Mami and Papi so much.... And yet... I know they'd be proud...”

Asriel closed his eyes and pulled her into a hug, and she clung to him and cried softly, hiding her face into his chest and holding onto his back. He leaned down and kissed her head several times, whispering soothing words to her, and he rubbed her back.

“Mami?” Nicky murmured. By then, everyone's attention was on them. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she croaked out, with a watery laugh at the end. “So... _so much_...”

It was an immense understatement, but she couldn't help it; she was so overwhelmed.

But she was understood, despite this, and soon, she felt her family hug or touch her, with the same love she felt for them, and she laughed and cried.

It was one of the happiest moments of her entire life, and one she never forgot.


	10. Chapter 10

After their lunch, everyone went over to New Solace Home to just hang out and talk about everything. It was good that it was both the weekend or a day off, as they all planned to stay up as late as possible.

“This is brilliant,” Alphys whispered, the moment everyone had more or less settled around the house.

Dandelion was the only one who was close enough to hear her, so she looked up and asked, “What is?”

Alphys grinned down at her. “Frisk will see _this_ as her party,” she explained, “and therefore, the _real_ party will be even sweeter.”

Dandelion lit up, and she nodded, hugging Alphys tight. “Good! I want Auntie Frisk to be happy.”

“Me, too,” Alphys agreed.

Then, they walked in and joined the others, willingly getting lost in the chaos that was their family.

* * *

Frisk indeed did assume that this was a party they'd planned for her, and she was overjoyed and delighted. It was so typical of their family, a traditional cluster of controlled chaos, and she adored it.

However, near the end of the night, as everyone started to shuffle home to prepare for tomorrow, there was a huge change in the mood – and in the way these parties usually ended.

By then, only Nicky, Basket, and Olceal remained with Frisk and Asriel, and it was only because Nicky insisted on helping Frisk and Asriel clean up – and keep her spouses in their delighted food comas as she did. She loved that they were just snuggled into a chair, curled up around each other like two halves of a whole, and they were comfortably sleeping, even as the TV blared before them.

And Nicky loved these moments, savoured them, and made it her duty to ensure they last as long as they could. Compared to Nicky's, their lives had began poorly, and they deserved prolonged moments of pleasure to make up for that pain.

Frisk understood, as she'd kicked Asriel out, too, and he'd slumped over to the couch and passed out, snoring deeply within minutes. Nicky giggled, and together, she and her mother proceeded to clean up.

It was nice. Nicky always loved to spend time with her parents, especially when cleaning. It was weird, but very cathartic; she liked helping people she loved make things comfortable for themselves. And tonight was no different, despite it being the last night before her entire life changed forever.

If anything, these familiar patterns soothed Nicky. And, unknown to her, it was the exact same for Frisk.

Most of that comfort was spent in silence, but occasionally, Frisk would touch Nicky's arm, or shoulder, or cheek, and Nicky would understand what those gestures meant, far more than words ever could be.

It was near the end of doing the dishes that things went off-kilter.

Nickname had moved to place a cup in – well – the cupboard, when she staggered, then blinked hard, quickly grasping onto the cup hard, before she grabbed the counter with her other hand. She heard Frisk call for her, but by then, it had started.

It was short, which was merciful, given the subject. Nicky wasn't even sure if she could've handled more than she actually saw, and what she'd seen was enough to make her reel, cover her mouth – and drop the cup to the floor. It bounced once, before shattering on the second attempt.

Then, from afar, she heard Frisk call for her again, then she felt a phone thrust into her hand, one Frisk had pulled away from the counter. But Nicky shook her head, her eyes wide and full, her other hand covering her mouth with trembling fingers.

She did not need to write it down. She knew this was one she'd never, ever forget.

When she could, Nicky whispered, “Mami, it's okay... Please, keep it d--,”

“You just had a vision,” Frisk hissed out, grabbing her arm hard. She'd switched to Indonesian, but Nicky wasn't sure that her mother was even aware of it. “Why aren't you writing it down, Nickname?!”

“I-I don't need to,” she admitted, responding in the same language. That way, she knew, even if she said it aloud, no one but them would understand.

“Ev... everything... O-okay?” Basket suddenly called sleepily, proving Nicky right. “S-something broke... n-need...?”

Nicky poked her head out and shook her head. “No, hon,” she replied in English. “I tripped. We're okay.”

“Mm...” Basket replied, drifting back off.

When Nicky came back, Frisk was staring at her in shock. “You lied to her,” she whispered, thankfully in Indonesian, still. “You lied to her, you _never_ lie to her! Nickname, what did you see?!”

Nicky covered her face and lowered herself down to the floor, trembling. She had to stay calm. She _had_ to. If she broke down, if she let this under her skin, it would – could – hurt the people she loved the most.

But at the same time, she closed her eyes and focused back, calling up those images easier than she ever could, before. What she'd seen... _who_ she'd seen... and... what it meant...

She looked closer, and made a soft, squeaky noise, one that was made simply from the effort of keeping everything inside. Because when she did, she realised she had nothing to worry about – and _everything_ to worry about.

“Nickname!” Frisk insisted, shaking her a little, and Nicky lowered her hands and met her gaze. Frisk stared at her in shock, confused.

Nicky was grinning and crying all at once. “Mami,” she whispered, grabbing her mother's hands. Still in Indonesian, she went on. “I... it was short, what I saw. O-or... who I saw...”

“Who?” Frisk echoed. “Who did you see? Is anyone in trouble?!”

Nicky laughed and shook her head, surprising her mother. “Mami,” she whispered, “do... did you ever want... grandchildren?”

Frisk stared at her. She wondered, for a moment, if Nicky had mixed something up in her translation, and she hadn't understood it properly. “Do I want _what?”_ she echoed, breathless.

Nicky started crying for real, then, dismay filling her. Because she realised, thanks to her mother's confusion, that there was no way it would happen and be well-received. At all.

Nicky was well into her mid-thirties, and while for humans, it was a risky age to get pregnant, it wasn't for monsters. And the more Nicky aged, the more she seemed to age less like a human, and more like a monster. By her age, Frisk's hair was starting to sport streaks of white and grey, while Nicky's hair was still its normal brown, touched only by the blond she'd inherited from both Frisk and Asriel (both had had blond(e) family members, after all).

But from the start, Basket and Olceal had expressed from the start that they were childfree, and everyone was more or less fine with it, as it really was their choice. And with Nickname, because she was asexual, it was a given that she would never have children.

So to suddenly have a vision of herself holding a small girl in her lap, one she recognised and yet had never seen before, made Nickname confused and scared.

Because her visions _always_ came true.

“Nicky, honey...” Frisk whispered. “Please, I’m so confused. Help me? Tell me?”

Nickname nodded, taking a few moments to calm down, as she was deeply upset, but desperate to keep herself quiet, lest her spouses worry – and ask.

And she didn't want them to ask.

_If... if this happens..._

_When, Nickname._

_When this happens... I don't want to force it._

_I want them to choose to because they want to, and not because my vision tells them to..._

“Nickname?” Frisk touched Nicky's cheek and brushed her tears away. “Did... did you see...?”

“I saw a little girl, a monster,” she whispered at last, making sure she didn't accidentally lapse into English. “I held her in my lap. She...” She choked up.

“What did she look like? _Who_ did she look like?” Frisk asked eagerly.

Nicky started crying, then, and she whispered, “All of us. She looked like all of us. She... she was beautiful... she...” Nicky choked again, and went quiet, covering her face and trying to keep quiet.

Frisk's eyes filled, and she got to her feet, grabbing a notepad and a pen and kneeling back down, setting both into her lap. “Try,” she whispered.

Nicky pulled her hands away and took the pen and pad, then shakily started to try and draw. She was nowhere near as good as Basket, who was incredibly talented, but she was alright. It took time, and Frisk watched her, sitting beside her and leaning against the kitchen drawers with Nicky.

She was drawing a small monster girl, about three or four – maybe five, if she was just small for her age – and she had curly hair. Poking out from beneath the curls were round, fuzzy ears, and she was round and chubby. Her hands were clawed, and she had a long – but furry – tail. Her eyes were neither large or small, but in between, and they were tilted like Nicky's, but were sharp and keen, behind glasses.

Frisk stared in shock, speechless.

Nicky whispered, her pen starting to add details, “Her skin was like a soft green, and her hair was auburn. I remember, too, that when I touched the top of her head, I could feel nubs; she had horns…”

“Nickname,” Frisk croaked out, grabbing her arm and hugging it to her, tight.

“She... was _ours_ , Mami,” Nicky sobbed out, her pen stopping. “She looked like all three of us...”

“Nicky, that's possible,” Frisk whispered, kissing her cheek, gently. “For monsters, they can connect souls between two or more people. It's happened, before.”

“B-but, Mami, I'm half-human,” she answered weakly. “Can I even use my soul that way...? I can't even control my only power...”

Frisk suddenly smiled at her, so brightly that she was surprised into silence. “Nickname,” she replied, “I am a _full_ human, and your father and I made _you_ quite easily.”

Nicky blushed, not from the fact that her mother mentioned having sex with her father, but because it made her feel silly that she hadn't thought of that. “But it almost killed you,” she pointed out.

“Because I am fully human,” Frisk agreed. “But you, my dear, are more monster, in my opinion. I damn well know you'd be able to.” Her eyes filled with tears. “And _well_ , too.”

“Mami,” Nicky whispered. “I... I've _always_... Wh-when my heart opened, I w-wanted...”

“I know,” Frisk agreed, even when she couldn't finish. “I've always known that, since I saw the three of you together that first morning. You loved them already, and you wanted more.”

Nicky nodded, leaning over and cuddling against her tiny mother, grateful when Frisk took her into her arms like she was a child, again.

“I want a baby,” she finally confessed.

Then, she broke down, as quietly as she could, and Frisk held her tight.

“You're going to keep this to yourself?” Frisk wondered, her voice soothing and gentle. Nicky nodded slowly, hiccupping. “That's okay. I will, too.”

Nicky looked up at her with surprise, and she nodded. “I will,” Frisk repeated. “I'll keep it between us, and I will help you through it all, okay? I promise you.”

Nicky broke down again, so grateful. She was scared, terrified of what could happen as a result of this. She'd been alone with their daughter; what if she lost them as a result...?

She was also aware of the irony: she was keeping a vision from Frisk, while Frisk vowed to keep another vision between them.

Thus, she wouldn't be alone, regardless. Thanks to Frisk, she knew that even if – and she doubted it, very much – they chose to leave her because of this, Frisk would take her in, as would Asriel, and she and their daughter would be safe.

“Thank,” Nicky whispered weakly, between sobs, and Frisk kissed her forehead and nodded, holding her close.

She didn't let go for a long time, not until she was certain that Nicky was calm enough. Then, she helped her to her feet and hugged her tight, and Nicky hugged back, and didn't let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops.
> 
> Dammit, characters, stop writing yourselves!!


	11. Chapter 11

For the first time since their marriage, Nicky contemplated sleeping alone. It was true that the spare bedroom had once served as her own, and for the first year, she'd more or less lived there, but never slept there. Eventually, as they grew closer, she moved out of it, and they converted it back to a spare room.

But because she was so spooked by that vision, she wondered. She wasn't sure if she could keep something like this to herself, even if she had to, and she never wanted to lie to them.

However, by the time they got home, Basket was clinging to her and dozing, stumbling as she walked, and Olceal opened the doors and helped them both in with an affectionate smile. And her mind immediately changed.

 _Yes,_ she realised, as the three walked to their bedroom to get ready for bed. _Yes, I have to keep this from them, but to punish myself as well as them for something I can't even explain? It's needless pain._

And she hated bringing the people she loved pain.

So she refused to. She swallowed her feelings, pushed the vision from her mind, and focused on now.

It was easier when Basket curled up into her side sleepily, smelling of mint and chamomile, and Olceal curled up into her other side, smelling of oranges and warm fur. She tugged them to her and closed her eyes, smiling faintly.

She felt like she was in a nest of pure love, and it lulled her to sleep.

But she dreamt of their daughter, more than once, and by the morning, she already had a name.

And that comforted her, too.

* * *

Frisk slept well that night, too. It was entirely because of Asriel.

The moment they were alone, he insisted that he give her shoulders a good massage before bed, so she'd sleep deeper. She was immediately grateful and submitted to his hands at once, and he took full advantage, making sure he was thorough and gentle. In minutes, she was a puddle, and when she was completely relaxed, he moved away, thinking she was asleep.

But then, her hand reached out and grabbed his wrist, and she raised her head, just as he blinked and looked at her in confusion. She sat up, still topless – and tackled him down, kissing him so deeply that he groaned – and he was hers.

After, Frisk fell asleep almost right away, and he laughed and cuddled her close, still catching his breath. She curled up in his arms, and he closed his eyes, his own heart warm and full.

* * *

When she woke up, Nicky blinked, surprised to hear rain, outside. She smiled, slid out of bed, and shuffled to the window, peering out of it and grinning wider.

She sat down on the windowseat and watched it rain, unable to look away, even as her thoughts raced.

_Today, everything changes._

_The first day of the rest of my life._

_I'm not alone._

_The rain is a good sign._

_God, was that vision real...?_

_More the reason to be good at this job..._

She jumped; a hand had just come down onto her shoulder, startling her from her thoughts. She looked up, and Basket jumped, too, blinking.

“Whoa,” Basket observed. “Deep thoughts.”

Nicky smiled, taking her hand and pulling her closer, so that she could slide her arms around her waist and hold onto her. Basket smiled, reaching down and stroking her hair, and she sighed, resting her cheek against Basket's hip and closing her eyes; even with her nightgown, Basket was always soft.

“You scared?” Basket wondered softly, her eyes going to the window.

“Yeah,” Nicky admitted. “But not in a way that makes me feel like I can't do it.”

“Good,” Basket agreed, “because you can, Nicks. You absolutely can.”

Nicky smiled wider. “Thank you.”

“Whatever, I’m just telling the truth,” Basket replied, though she blushed a little.

A small silence fell between them, each lost in a reverie of raindrops.

“You really think I can?” Nicky suddenly wondered.

“Yes,” Basket agreed right away.

Nicky bit her lip, then pulled Basket into her lap and hugged her, making her squeak, then giggle, before curling up into her lap. Nicky held her close, and together, they just... listened.

Listened and thought.

* * *

“No,” Frisk growled, her hands already bunching up the fabric of her dress.

Asriel leapt in and stopped her, tugging her hands away. “Yes,” he pleaded, and she glowered at him through the mirror but went still. “It’s perfect. I promise.”

“We've lots of time, still,” Frisk growled. “Let me change.”

“No,” Asriel grumbled, keeping hold of her hands. “You've changed way too many times, already, and every time, it's _this_ dress, and I agree, so please, keep it on?”

Frisk sighed, lowering her head. In truth, she did sort of agree with him, that it really was the best thing she owned, and one she looked best in. But she was unable to stay still, and kept feeling the need to change, anyway.

“Frisk,” Asriel then murmured, kissing her cheek. “It's gonna be okay.”

“Hm,” she muttered. “Usually you're begging me to take the dress _off_ , not keep it _on_.”

“The day is still young,” he replied, both surprising – and delighting – her into relaxing, at last. He laughed, kissed her other cheek, then went back to trying to fix his own shirt.

With a warm smile, she helped, and when their eyes met, they both blinked, then kissed, just for a moment.

Frisk whispered, her lips still close to his, “I'm so scared.”

“I know,” Asriel agreed, reaching up and stroking her cheek, brushing away the tears she didn't realise she shed. “But it's gonna be okay. _Better_ than okay: the _best_.”

Frisk searched his gaze, though for what, she didn't know.

“She really is the only one for this job,” Asriel murmured. “And you really have done wonderfully, preparing her as best you can.”

Frisk nodded.

“And, you'll be allowed to be her advisor for a year,” he reminded her, and she closed her eyes. “So you'll have a full year to show her how it's done. And you know how smart she is, Frisk; it'll be enough.”

She nodded again.

“She'll be wonderful, Frisk.”

At that, Frisk buried her face into his shoulders and sniffled, and he held her close through it, his own eyes full, too.

“She will,” he whispered. “You know she will.”

Frisk nodded, and clung to him, her eyes tightly shut.

She knew.

* * *

Nicky had memorised her previously-declared words perfectly, and recited them to the formal Chambers, her face confident and sure, with her parents on one side and her spouses on the other.

“Basket only got married so she didn't have to _clean_ ,” Dandelion complained.

“Whatever, you're a better cleaner, anyway,” Undyne reminded her, and she frowned; she wasn't sure if it was a compliment.

The press conference was on in the background as they worked, cleaning up New Solace Home in between greeting guests and setting them down to either watch with snacks or help clean.

Nothing happened.

Alphys, especially, had been on edge, expecting the worst, her eyes wide and glassy with fear, but she had nothing to worry about.

By the time it was over, everyone stood still in shock, stunned into freezing and staring at the screen – even the guests. No one had expected that to go as smoothly as it did, and yet not only had it, but it had surpassed those expectations.

Nicky got a standing ovation.

Alphys suddenly felt Undyne take hold of her from behind, and she closed her eyes and relaxed, just as Undyne leaned down and kissed her forehead.

“Alphy,” she whispered, “trust me: with Nicky, things are gonna be different – and for the better.”

“’Things cha-a-ange, whoa-a-a-a...'” Alphys replied dryly, making Undyne burst into laughter and kiss her even more – finally making Alphys giggle, too.

“’For the be-eh-eh-ter, yeah,’” Dandelion suddenly added, surprising them both. They stared at her, and she rolled her eyes; she'd been perfectly on pitch, while Alphys had... definitely not been _._

 _“What?!”_ Dandy demanded, waving her duster at them. “I _listen_!”

For which she was given hugs and kisses, too.

“God,” Darien muttered, his arms around his son – who scowled but took it with quiet grace, used to his father's clinginess, even at his age. “I'm always so scared with things like this.”

“Guh,” Athena answered. “Look at how we met.”

Darien looked away shyly, but he smiled – and Dawnson lost his patience, rolled his eyes, and went to go help Papyrus... and Mettaton, curiously. (sans was, expectedly, sleeping on the table, so they used him to prop things up.)

“Hello,” Mettaton greeted him – though he looked a little annoyed.

“YES,” Papyrus agreed, though he was cheerful. “YOU HAVE BETTER LUNG CAPACITY! YOU CAN DO THE BALLOONS!”

Mettaton muttered something that Dawnson didn't hear – but Papyrus did, and he blinked in surprise... then cleared his throat, blushing a little.

Undyne was glowering. “ _That_ ,” she hissed to Alphys. “ _What_?”

Alphys looked away, smiling crookedly. “Oh, who knows?”

“Can we hurry up, _please_?” Dandelion growled. “We have maybe an hour left!”

That woke everyone – except sans – up, and immediately, everyone moved faster, eager to clean up as best as possible.

Everyone wanted this to be the best, for both Frisk and Nickname.


	12. Chapter 12

It started off as a near-disaster.

Frisk walked in, first – and reeled the moment everyone jumped out and cheered, her hand to her chest and her face paleing immediately. She staggered back, her eyes wide, and Asriel caught her, furious.

“You _morons_!” Asriel snarled. “I fucking _told_ you _not_ to do that!” He glared at sans _. “This is all your fault, bastard!”_

“what?!” sans answered. “it is not! i was asleep!”

Frisk, for some reason, suddenly laughed at that, and the colour came back to her cheeks alongside each one. With that, even Asriel relaxed, and finally, things became cheerful.

But not soon after both Frisk and Nickname had taken everyone in, they both looked at each other – and started to cry. They crossed the room to embrace, confusing everyone around them, but nothing interrupted them.

Softly, in Indonesian, Frisk whispered, “I'm so proud of you. Look at how many people love you.”

“They're here for you, too, Mami,” Nicky replied. “Not just for me!”

“No, just you,” Frisk teased, and Nicky laughed, a little watery, but still a real laugh.

“Nicky,” Frisk then whispered. “I can't wait.”

Nicky blushed crimson, hiding her face into her mother's shoulder. “I know,” she whispered back. “I don't even know when, but I hate waiting, too...”

“stop that,” sans grumbled, tossing a balled up paper napkin at the two – and hitting Nicky's knee. “you're gonna kill us all, aren't you?”

“Yes,” Nicky agreed, as seriously as she possibly could.

And sans was spooked. He gaped at her in shock, speechless, and she was laughing before she could even think about it, her tears turning to ones of mirth.

But again, it made the mood bounce back, and both Frisk and Nicky parted with smiles and kisses, before going back to make the rounds, again.

It was a long, long night. But it was worth it.

* * *

Alphys's snore was loud, but not as loud as sans's, they realised.

Both Frisk and Nicky listened as their friends and family slept around them, either passed out from too much food, drink, edibles, or all three (Dandelion was the exception, of course, who was simply tired).

Surpsingly, only they were awake, when both were used to being the ones who slept first and woke last.

“Cute,” Nicky murmured in Indonesian, sitting on the floor, one of her arms around Olceal, the other around Basket. Frisk sat on Asriel's lap in one of the chairs, and she grinned in agreement.

“Are you scared?” Frisk wondered.

“Yeah,” Nicky agreed shyly.

“Me, too.”

Nicky looked up at her, and saw that she was being her most sincere.

“But I believe in you, Nickname,” Frisk added, her eyes wavering – but her smile bright. “It's... time. It's _your_ time, now. My time... We've done what we could. Now we trust you to do even better.”

Nicky's eyes welled up, and she lowered her head. “What if I fail?” she whispered, once again careful not to lapse into English. “What if I fail, and lose Bassy?”

Frisk lowered her gaze, her hands playing with Asriel's left one, so softly that it didn't wake him. “You don't know that that's what will happen,” Frisk finally said, though she did sound wary about it.

Nicky nodded, biting her lip. It was true. While Frisk still didn't know about the vision, Nicky still took that advice to heart - and for _both_ of those visions. 

“Besides,” Frisk murmured. “You  _can't_. Not... not before one of you has...”

Nicky's eyes closed, her tears spilling over, and she nodded. “I... I have a name...” she blurted out.

Frisk smiled. “I thought you would. Tell me.”

Nicky again blurted it out, between hiccups, and Frisk froze, her smile vanishing with shock.

“Yes,” Frisk whispered, nodding. Nicky looked up shyly. “Nicky, it's perfect! Will you use English, or Indonesian?”

“English,” Nicky replied. “But yeah. That's her.”

“From what you showed me, that matches her, perfectly!” Frisk agreed, her smile back – but her eyes still full. “Oh, _golly_ , Nicky, I can't wait!”

“You have to,” Nicky teased.

 _“Mrr_ ,” Basket suddenly murmured, stirring a little. _“Secrets...”_

“Yep,” Nicky replied in English, kissing her nose; her eyes were still closed. “Go back to sleep.”

 _“Mm...”_ Basket agreed, cuddling up deeper into her arms and obeying, one arm reaching out and grabbing hold of Olceal's. Olceal stirred, too, then sighed and relaxed.

Nicky's heart was so full in that moment, and she cried, as quietly as she could, so disbelieving that this was her life, now. Ten years ago, if anyone had told her this, she would've laughed herself sick. Now, it was all she could ever imagine for herself.

“I love them,” Nicky admitted tearfully. “I can't lose them.”

“You will not,” Frisk answered, her voice sharp. “Look at who they are, who they came from. They will never leave you, Nickname.”

Nicky stared at her, then lowered her gaze and flicked it between them. She bit her lip again, and slowly, she nodded; she knew it was true.

“Try to sleep,” Frisk then advised. “It's gonna be a long day, tomorrow.”

“But we have it off...?” Nicky blinked.

“No; it’s a _weekday_ ,” Frisk replied wisely, and Nicky sighed; she understood.

Just because it was a day after something momentous didn't mean that time stood still for them to celebrate the occasion.

“Welcome to politics, _putri_ ,” Frisk concluded, smiling a little wistfully.

“Thanks,” Nicky replied, surprisingly sincere. It made Frisk smile, but when Nicky leaned back and closed her eyes, Frisk's smile faded, and she curled up against Asriel's chest.

Her eyes remained on her daughter, even after she'd fallen asleep. Frisk didn't sleep; not until far later into the night.

When she did, it was strangely deep, and very rejuvenating, indeed.

But tomorrow did come, and with it, the start of an entire new regime.


	13. Chapter 13

Nicky wasn't as – verbally – sharp as her mother, nor was she as easily angered as her father (and sometimes, yes, her mother, too). Within her first six months, Frisk quickly realised that Nicky didn't need her, anymore, and hadn’t for at least a month.

She offered to cut her advisory period short, and with some hesitation, Nicky accepted.

She hadn't wanted to. With Frisk there, she felt safe. She felt like there wad no way she could mess up, not with her mother, her role model, her hero, beside her.

But Nicky was not blind; she could see how it dragged on Frisk. Even retired, even doing the bare minimum, Frisk still struggled at times with severe lethargy and dizziness, and had to be hospitalised twice.

It was that second time that did it. Asriel had taken her aside and begged her to fire Frisk, but Nicky instead made it seem like it was Frisk's idea to resign. Frisk _did_ buy it, but Nicky wondered if Frisk already knew, and was humouring Nicky to make them both feel better.

Either way, the first week was the worst, but they got through it – and soon, Nicky realised that she really _was_ alright, by herself.

Well, perhaps not _always_ by herself; she was never without Basket or Olceal. Basket went part-time at the bookstore for the first six months, then quit when Frisk did, instead demanding to be hired as an official Guard to Nicky. Oddly, the Council agreed, even when Nicky wasn't sure if it was wise.

But Nicky would realise just how valuable Basket's pushiness would be – and mere months later, too.

Olceal also went part-time at the restaurant he worked at, training a replacement chef for himself and staying on as a part-timer and a tutor. The rest of the time, he spent with Nicky; he hated the Chambers, but he would always be there whenever she had places to go. Though she now knew how to drive, she preferred Olceal driving, so that she could use the time to prepare for where she was going.

He also helped with her speeches; Basket tried, but her forte was less with words and more with pictures, so it wasn’t as... _good_... as Olceal's. She didn't mind; she preferred the verbal dance of the Chambers, words spoken like arrows across shiny marble and wooden counters.

And nothing happened.

Neither of Nicky's visions came true in that first year, and it stumped her. She said nothing about the second one, and she wondered if she should on the year-anniversary.

But, no. She kept quiet. She didn't want to push anyone, least of all her spouses.

Her heart ached and yearned, but it did not happen.

Luckily, neither did that first vision, bringing considerable relief to everyone.

That first year had Nicky prove to everyone that it wasn't just nepotism, and she truly deserved the job. By the end of that year, people not only agreed, but wondered why it hadn't happened sooner.

This embarrassed Frisk, and indeed, she made note of it in her book, the one she devoted herself to for the rest of those six months. She didn't completely finish it; there was still way too much to add and edit, but she got the first draft more or less done, and she was proud of herself.

In fact, she gave it to Asriel the moment she was done, simply walking over to him and placing the notebooks gently into his lap, her eyes wide and on his. He took them, smiled, and she relaxed, smiling back. She trust him to be honest.

And he was; he corrected several things, offered his perspectives on many events, and wondered why she'd left out so much.

She still had a lot of work to do.

But she, like Nicky, already had a name for her new creation, her future baby, one she would send into the world like she sent Nickname.

_“Abovetale.”_

**\--THE END--**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FIGHT ME.


End file.
